I don't know if I am going to do this story justice. I am going to offer you this before we get too far down the line. This happened. I'm not real proud of it, but its one of those things that if you could have been present, you would have laughed your ass off! Is it childish? Yeah it is. I was probably 11 years old and my sister was about 9.
We used to spend a lot of time out at dad's house in the summer. Sometimes our step sisters would be there. That was agony for me. 3 girls against me... There was nothing I could do that was going to be cool with all 3 girls. I learned that shit early on. Me being me and having 3 girls as a captive audience, I was one or two words away from pissing off the whole group! And, I knew better than to do that. So what I found in this circumstance was, I had only my little sister present.
If something awful happened, it was a guessing game on who would come out on top by the time the parental units came home. It was normally her and she had a valuable trick up her sleeve. On a different occasion, she called dad at work to tell him I was being a shit. We were told not to call dad at work unless one of us died or the house blew up. Being "daddy's little girl" she knew she could probably get away with it.
So anyways, as the day progressed, we ran out of things to do. We did have some chores to take care of and they were done. It was about 115 outside. We didn't have a pool. There wasn't even a tree big enough to cast a shadow at the time so were were either outside or inside. The problem was, if we were together, there was probably going to be an issue.
As I remember it, my sister managed to get control of the TV remote. It was one of those "first come-first serve" policies that most families children had to negotiate. So now, she is the TV boss and I felt she was doing a poor job. I can't remember what she was watching, but no way were a 9 year old girl and an 11 year old boy going to agree on what we should or should not be viewing.
She was kind of proud of herself. I'll go as far as to say "gloating''... she was gloating at the fact that she was in charge of the T V. More importantly, she was very proud of herself because she knew how bad this pissed me off! She picked some bullshit show. I don't even think she liked it, but I had no choice.
So there we were, watching some bullshit show. At about the time I figured out what was happening on the show, she changed the channel to something worse. She looked at me and grinned. I told her to change it back. She said no, and picked up the phone. "Leave me alone or I'll call dad." That's it. I'd been called out. I was had and there wasn't a thing I could do about it and she knew it.
Again, as soon as it almost got interesting, change the channel. Click, click, click and every time she changed the channel, she would smirk at me. She totally knew she was driving me up the wall and I had little to no recourse. If I objected a little to harshly, she'd be on the phone.
So there I sat. The longer I sat and the longer this went on, I knew I was going to have to do something. I didn't know what that something was, but I knew I couldn't beat her up, could not steal the remote or about 30 other things that would have resulted in dad coming home early.
I was trying to come up with something. My train of thought was, "Do something that she can't prove. Do something that isn't going to leave a mark or something that is going to make her cry." That didn't open a whole lot of doors for me. In the mean time, she'd look at me and smirk. It was killing me.
The only thing I could think of doing was farting near her. This was a kid who would gag at herself when she tried to go poop, so when anyone else farted, she'd nearly die. I kind of crept up next to her and crop dusted her with a "silent but deadly". No reaction... I was crushed. I was positive that this would make her run for the hills and relinquish control over the remote, but no dice.
I somehow knew I was on the right track though. I made her cry before with a fart. I knew my dad farted. No way dad was going to murder me over a fart. No way! So I sat there scheming and it dawned on me at the perfect moment.
Have you or anyone else you know ever do that fake sneeze thing where they flick a bunch of water on you while faking a sneeze? Yeah its kind of gross, but it was right up my alley. I went into the kitchen, just out of her view and got my hands wet. I was fully prepared to do the fake sneeze but then I realized I had a beast of a fart on deck.
I came walking back into the room as if nothing was happening. I had to walk right by her to get back into the living room. She was glued to the TV so I walked by, cranked my leg up, blew one of the most putrid farts I ever conjured and at the same time flicked water on her.
She jumped! She screamed! "Oooooooh, fart juice!!!!" and took off running and gagging. Me? I hit the floor. At this point, I didn't care if dad came home and killed me. This was an act of brilliance that only comes around once in a lifetime and I seized the moment.
I was rolling on the floor and laughing hysterically. She ran to the bathroom to decontaminate. She really thought somehow, fart juice blew through my jeans and hit her on the arm and shoulder! That'd be a helluva thing, but its pretty impossible. (I have decided this by all of the research I have done since.) I knew that she would be decontaminating for a couple of hours. I was safe from her calling dad, so I figured I had a 50/50 chance of surviving this attack.
Well, dad came home. The house was silent. I think Tara was still in the bathroom or maybe she was crying in her bedroom. Either way, dad had not been notified and that was a winner for me!
Dad walks in and says, "Howdy son! How was your day?" Before I could answer he asked where my sister was. "I think shes in the bedroom, dad." He said, "No blow ups or anything?" I answered, "Well, no. Not really."
In walks Tara. She at one point had cried and it was obvious. It was also obvious that she had taken at least 3 showers. She stared at me. If looks could kill, I was a dead man. Dad looks at me with a familiar look which brought me a good deal of concern.
Dad said, "What happened, honey?" As she started to tell the story, she began to cry. Dad rushed her into his bedroom. Before he shut the door he said, "Ill be talking with you in about 1 minute."
I was caught. This was it. I was going to get killed for fart juice! Its not even a thing! And it wasn't violent! Nobody got hurt, so to speak. I didn't curse... but I knew this wasn't going to bode well for me.
The one minute mark passed. Now I am about to shit a brick. I am hoping and praying that my step mom would show up and cause some kind of a diversion, but she wasn't due home for a couple of hours.
Dad's bedroom door opens and my little sister walked into the living room where I was seated. Dad had an unfamiliar look on his face and was massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He did the "come here thing" with his pointer finger and went back into the room.
"Dead man walking" I thought. This was it. I finally did what it was going to take to get murdered by my own father. He walked into his walk in closet and started to unbutton his work shirt. I was standing behind him, strategically out of reach. His body started slightly jerking. I thought he was crying or having a seizure for a minute. He turned around and was laughing his ass off! I knew not to think I was in the clear yet.
I matched his laughter with a half grin. He sat down, still laughing. He said, "What exactly did you do to your sister?" As his laughter subsides, he starts staring at me. This was a make or break minute. I knew that I had to tell the truth so I said, "Well dad, I walked by her, cranked my leg up, farted as hard as I could and splashed water on her at the same time."
He about fell off the chair. He said, "What in the hell is the matter with you?" I just kind of shrugged, smiled and laughed a little. Now the old man stands up and says, "Son, I don't know what caused you to do that. I don't know where your head was or what made you feel like that was a good idea, but it was funny! Don't ever do it again. Were probably going to have to get your sister therapy. She thinks you farted juice on her." I laughed. He laughed. I apologized to him and as I left he half heartedly kicked me in the ass while saying, "Never again."
To this day, I haven't done that again. To my sister or anyone else. I asked my sister for permission to put this out there and she granted it by saying "I'm not convinced that wasn't fart juice. I am traumatized to this day."
Anyhow, true story and pretty indicative of what kind of a big brother I was. I made her taste wet cement once. It's fine. She lived. Not only did she live, she is really doing well. Maybe not psychologically, but by appearance alone-she's good and I hope you are too.
Take care, folks. See you next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment