Umm, family issues much?
In light of the weekend hockey events, I have decided to chime in and beat a dead horse. With a different perspective of course.
Because this is a "diary" I will take you back to 1992. It is a warm atumn evening and the lawn needs to be mowed. I am 13 years old and hate that lawn. In fact at this point, I hate life. Parents are dumb, and people are annoying in general. As I mow back and forth about 12 times, it is then time to dump the bag.(yes, I knew at level 3 it took 12 swipes to fill that @#$%&*! bag)
As I go to the dump pile, which seemed about 8 miles away, I see something come from nowhere out of the corner of my eye. The bag of grass goes flying with the clippings all over the freshly mowed grass. I was busy minding my business doing my stupid chores; the right way and some DOUCHE messes with me. It is on! I proceed to chase this freak around the yard and run his ass into a corner on the deck. His only option is to grab the 3 wood that is resting in the corner. Next thing I know I am staring up at the gray skies. That MF'er knocked me cold with the 3 wood.(he threw it and it connected...he knew he could not get in close enough to swing it at me) Who would do such a thing?
You guessed it, that MF'er was my LITTLE brother. Par for the course. I wondered why the events at Yost on Saturday felt so familiar after watching the replays.....
We have since worked through them. I think he once threw a bible at me and probably some knives on vacation in Florida. I love him now though.
Dude, you had me cracking up...brings back memories of battles with my little bro...i could definitely relate to the mowing reference as i spent a few summers in A2 "mowin' em up" to pay for tuition in the fall.
At the end of the day, your little brother will always be your "little brother".....
Those were the days. I am sure every little or big brother can relate. You are right, at the end of the day there is always the same little brother.
I once hit my brother in the face with a metal snow shovel.
I also kicked him in the junk numerous times.
and I had been letting them watch Top Gun on the VCR over and over. The were absolutely gone over Top Gun. The older guy, M, was a real needler, had to be right all the time and just badgered the younger guy, Ucla, no end.
So anyway, one day I hear serious ruckus noises coming from the family room and haul in there to find Ucla sitting on M's chest, letting him have is with both hands. Great hockey fight, except it's my boys going at it, little brother on big brother. M sees me and starts yelling, "Come down here, and get this asshole off of me!", which is a line from the movie. Which my wife, their mother, hears and immediately starts in on me while I peel Ucla off M. Like I said, great hockey fight with my wife as third man in and the dog coming over the boards to join the fracas. Little brother winds up in the box for fighting, big brother in the box for rough language, and me in the box for somehow causing it all, according to my wife.
That's justice in our house.