Oh, Brother

Today's topic...siblings. Hmm, where do I start? I have an older brother, and it's just the two of us. Being almost four years apart, we were sworn enemies until he moved out to go to college. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother dearly, but sometimes I'd still like to shake the snot out of him.

We're like night and day in every aspect.

~He's a tall, dark-haired mountain of a man. I'm a short little redhead.
~He's a pro at keeping things bottled up inside, while I have the shortest fuse ever and blow up all over the place.
~He's never lived outside the state we were both born in (with the exception of the year he went to college and still came home every weekend). I, on the other hand, have lived ALL over creation, it seems. My ex was in the Army, and The Hub is a Marine, so all of my adult life has revolved around the military.
~In high school, he was Mr. Popular, Capt. of the football team, stud extraordinaire, and went to parties every weekend. I was a geek. My friends were geeks. I didn't hang out with the popular kids. I didn't date much, and can count on one hand the number of parties I went to during my entire 12 years of school.
~He was "Daddy's Boy" and came and went as he pleased. They'd go off fishing and hunting together all the time. I was "Momma's Girl" and was SO overprotected that it's actually kind of sad. I won't even go into that whole thing.

It's a wonder we even speak to each other, huh?

Anyway, I totally blame him for my fear of the dark. Well, not actually the dark, but what's IN the dark. Yes, I'm 35 years old and cannot walk down a dark hallway without having a panic attack. You see, my brother has always been a big-time prankster with a mischievous streak about a mile wide. Nothing gave him more pleasure when we were kids than to scare the bujeezes out of me. Hiding behind doors, in dark doorways, under my bed, you get the picture. He'd wait until his "dumb little sister" came by and jump out and yell. He *still* picks on me when I go back to visit the family.

And fights? Oh, boy, they were doozies. That's practically ALL we did growing up. We were latch-key kids (before that was even a term), and it's a miracle my parents didn't come home from work to find us both dead with our hands still clenched around each other's throats. And when he'd tear something up, he'd MAKE me take the blame for it. My parents KNEW that he was the one who did it, but he'd never 'fess up. Why did I take the blame? I was younger, smaller, and he was in charge when we were home alone. My life was already hard enough without throwing that monkey in the blender.

The boy tortured me on a regular basis. When I was around 3, I had no friends in the neighborhood b/c they were ALL boys. So I did what any annoying little sister would do. I tried to follow them every step they made all thru the woods and everywhere else. He got tired of it one day (my mom was in the house), so he fixed the problem. He convinced me that we were gonna play "Cowboys and Indians". Well, I got captured and TIED TO A TREE in the yard. Then he left me there and went to his friend's house! My mom said she kept hearing me call him from the same place in the yard and wondered why I didn't try to go find him. When she came out, there I was. Who knows how long I would've been there otherwise. And my mother is still amazed that I spent so much time alone in my room growing up. Gee, Mom, I dunno!

The torture didn't stop there, though. Like I said, we fought like cats and dogs. When he'd get tired of it, (keep in mind he was bigger than me) he'd tie my hands and feet up, throw me on my bed, stuff a sock in my mouth, and shut my door. All of this happened while our parents were at work. Of course, to get rid of any evidence of such a thing, he'd untie me just a few minutes before they got home. I still told on him, and he'd get in trouble, but it never stopped him from doing it again. HE was the stubborn one back then. The tides have now turned. ::insert evil grin here::

Oh, and when I got into junior high and high school, he beat up ANY boy who even looked at me. Yeah, we're talking slamming them into lockers and threatening their very lives. He was VERY protective of me. No wonder I didn't date much, huh?

Times weren't always bad, though. I still giggle about the yarns he'd spin, and I was naive enough to believe them. One always comes to mind. I was maybe 4 or 5 years old. He had a BB gun and had tossed it on his bed one day and punched a hole in the sheetrock of his wall. When I asked him what made the hole, he told me that there was a monkey inside the wall. Stupid me believed him and proceeded to make this hole bigger to try to see this monkey. Well, who got in trouble for the hole in the wall? ME. I don't know why that still strikes me as funny, but it does.

Back then, smoking wasn't the big "no-no" it is now. Since our dad and our uncles all smoked, we (along with some of our cousins) decided to try it one day at our grandma's house. I still, for the life of me, don't remember where grandma and the moms were, but I'm sure the dad's were off fishing or hunting somewhere. Anyway, there were no cigarettes in the house, so we decided that DRINKING STRAWS would suffice as a good substitute in this situation. Sheesh, we lit those things on fire in the kitchen, and it's a wonder we didn't burn the house down. Needless to say, we didn't enjoy smoking.

There was also the time grandma's vase was mysteriously broken (again while we were all there unsupervised). We glued it back together, and to this day we all swear that the vase had ALWAYS been that way.

After he went to college, his weekends home were different. The two of us would go off to the movie together or go get a pizza or something. I think it finally dawned on us that we were growing up and wouldn't always have each other *right there*. It was time to mend fences. I had always been the annoying little sister, and he was always the mean big brother, but things changed.

So, yeah, growing up was an adventure, and it wasn't always easy, but he's the only brother I'll ever have. There's nothing we wouldn't do for each other.