Wednesday, April 16, 2008

My Brother, Buck

My brother, Buck, is nearly 4 years younger than I am. Buck is not his real name but it is the name we called him from the time he was born. I have lots of stories about Buck. Lots.

The first story I want to tell y'all about actually covers a number of years. When I was ten and he was 6, we lived in a large split level home that had a mother-in-law apartment downstairs, complete with a kitchen and full bathroom. That is where we watched T.V. The other part was unfinished and it is where we had an unbelievable amount of toys. Our mother had sent us downstairs to clean and I had run ahead of my brother yelling, "I dibs the mother-in-law apartment!" This was because I could watch Flipper while I cleaned. It was also much neater than the unfinished side. Buck got very angry and kept coming in to where I was to yell and throw things at me. Our youngest brother, TR, was two at the time. Buck picked up one of his little poindexter type shoes and threw it at me. The edge of the heal was sharp for some reason and actually stuck in my temple for a second or two. When the shoe fell away Buck started screaming, "I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" I then felt something on the side of my face and when I pulled my hand away it had blood on it. My mother had come running, my brother was banished to his room, and I sat at the kitchen table waiting for my father to come home and take me to the emergency room. It was a late night that ended with a butterfly bandage and a permanent dimple in my temple.

Years later, when I was sixteen and dating, good ole Buck found a full package of pictures of me that my mother had never bothered to open. You could see the large picture through the window of the envelope. The pictures were from the day after the above incident. I assume my mother forgot it was picture day and had let me go to school in a funky peach colored shirt, totally NOT my color. I had major bed head and was pale and sickly looking. Buck hit pay dirt. He cut those pictures up and waited in the bushes until my date came to pick me up and then handed him one telling him that that is what I looked like without make up on. He had a blast with those pictures and it took some doing to finally get them all back. My parents would get involved and he would swear he had given them all back... only to have them surface again. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he still has one somewhere.

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