Brothers... Can't Live With 'Em, Can' Kill 'Em
This time of year it's very natural to think of family. (I think of my family all the time, but this time of year I'm more likely to wax poetic.)
I am the youngest of four. My sister is almost 10 years older than me, my brother G eight years, and my brother R six years. With that kind of age range, I was almost my own little family. Well, I would have been, if R had let me.
You see, he was jealous of me. (Not that he's ever admitted it. Ever.) He'd been the baby of the family for almost six years, and then I came along. Jealous-City.
Now, as set-up to this story, you need to keep in mind that my middle name is Sue. My fondest memories of R are him singing songs to me. Before you get all mushy and teary-eyed, let me tell you the names of the songs.
A Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash, and a song that I have no idea what the title is, but it starts out like this: "Mama's li'l baby loves shortenin', shortenin', Mama's li'l baby loves shortenin' bread." (Sung in a deep, raspy voice like Louie Armstrong.) Of course, both songs would make me see red, he'd laugh and run, I'd growl and run after him.
He's six years older than me, which means he's taller than me (i.e., he has longer legs). Even now, as a full-grown adult, I'm only 5'4". R's 6"1'. You see where this is going? Of course I could never catch him. Ever.
Now you see why this post has the title it does?
I love my brother. We are the best of friends now, and he swears he doesn't remember doing any of that to me.
But I remember. What goes around comes around.
He's got four boys.
Need I say more?
5 comments:
Got to love big brothers. I have two... eight and ten years older than me. I had to learn how to stand my ground quick while growing up.
Merry Christmas Sherrill! Enjoy this 77 degree weather for me! I'm off to freeze in Texas.
My Bro's two years younger and until I was 20 I despised the lout.
Oh. Grrr.
He made my life hell.
I think I was 12 and my friend and I were sitting on the front step enjoying Freezies (orange...thank you very much) when Bro came sauntering up with a box of Vegetable Thins in his hand. "Wanna some Veggie Thins." Friend & I nod. They're like the best cracker ever. Bro reaches into the box and pulls out...a squirrel's tail. We screamed. I mean...screamed then ran down the street with him chasing us and cackling like a maniac. I still can't look at the box without my stomach rolling.
Friend & I are at another's friend's house and Bro comes running up waving a stick at us. On the end. Dog poo. We screamed. Ran away. He chased us, cackling like a maniac.
Jenna, watching Punky Brewster. Bro saunters up, plants his ass in her face and let's it rip. Gag. Oh Gag. "Mooooom! Bro farted on me!" Snickering from the kitchen. "Leave your sister alone." Bro, cackles like an idiot and...farts again. In my open mouth as I'm shrieking at him. Eeeew. Man alive. Wrong. That was just wrong.
Bro: "Hey, let's play Winter."
Jenna: "Winter? What's winter?"
Bro: "Whoever can last the longest in the freezer wins."
Jenna: "Okay." (Idiot.)
Bro shifts food around: "Ladies first."
Jenna: eying Bro nervously. He helps me in, shuts the door and then sat on it! The bastard! You know how dark it gets in a freakin' freezer? Do you know how cold it is in a freakin' freezer? You know how loud your screams are in a freakin' freezer. I won. The jerk didn't even go in.
Jenna at the bar, chatting up some guy (he was my ride home - no big deal). Bro saunters up - 18 and drunk (yeah, he could get into the clubs early. Jerk). Stands toe to toe with the guy who was no slouch, looks down at him (Bro is 6'4" and Guy was 6'1ish) "You better take care of my little sister," he says in a John Wayne drawl. I smack my forehead. Bro saunters off like it's a freakin' western movie. Guy looks at me "Who was that?" Me: "I have no idea. I need a drink. A double."
If he wasn't tormenting me, he was embarassing me. Still...he's my best friend. The jerk. I'm thinking I'm getting the shaft in this sibling relationship.
Well, my youngest brother is the one I have the best memories of. My oldest brother G married when I was 11 and he was gone. Of course, R got married when I was 13, but still, he put me through a lot of crap between the ages of whatever and 13. He never farted in my face, though. At least, not that I remember. And I'm pretty sure I'd remember that.
Although, now that I think on it, G is the one who dislocated my shoulder dragging me on the floor around the kitchen table...
Landra, I hope you have a great time in Texas to make up for the colder weather! And I will be certain to enjoy the weather here for you. :)
Well, I have to say my brother, while 10 years older never bothered me - probably because he was 10 years old. At one point when I was 19 he became the protective older brother until I told him to knock it off.
Now my sister is 5 1/2 years older than me (yes, I'm the baby). And her and I grew up always fighting. She even told me as a baby she used to put a pillow over my face (that's why I can't stand to have my face covered).
Now my sister and I are the best of friends. But I will say, payback is a pain. My sister had 5 children and her 2 girls fought all the way through their teenage years.
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