Memoir Monday: I Nearly Got My Sister Killed (she deserved it)

Another Memoir Monday, brought to you by Travis. Go over and checkout the others at his place AND donate to his weight loss cause. The money goes to help a little baby with cancer.




I was an adorable little child who always behaved.

If you don’t believe me, check out this post. Or this one.

As another example of my perfectness and idealchildwhoeverymotheronlydreamsofhavingness, I transport you back in time to when I was about 5 or 6.

It was summertime.

I was home and playing outside on a warm summer day.

Since my older, by 10 years, sister had been left in charge, I was playing by the street that ran in front of our house.

Meanwhile, she was inside watching soaps when she should been watching me or doing homework or dishes or whatever she had mom falsely convinced that she was responsible enough to do on her own (Told you I would eventually tell on you! 30 years counts as eventually in this case!).

So, I am out front, minding my own business and doing what little boys at that age do.

Like throwing rocks at a bird that was sitting on a wire across the street.

I’d pick up a rock, take aim, and heave that rock as far and high as I could.

I did this probably a dozen times.

I am pretty sure the bird was laughing at my efforts, cause birds are jerks.

Or it was too terrified by my awesome pitching skills to move.


Regardless, I was determined.


So determined, I barely noticed the big burly Harley guy coming down the street on his Road King.

Right about the time that I DID notice him, I also learned that my hand / eye coordination was surprisingly good at such a young age.


That’s right.

The rock I intended for the bird suddenly sailed right towards Mr. Hell’s Angel’s head.

(That’s my story and I’m sticking to it)

Cue screeching tires and motorcycle U-turn.

Being no dummy, I made a bee-line for the house.

I busted in the front door, slamming it behind me, and rapidly explained the curious dilemma to my shocked sister.

I think I said, “HELP, HELP, HELP! HE’S GONNA KILL ME!!!”, as my little heart beat out of my chest.

Sister was like, “….*blink,blink*…Wha?”, cause she is a blonde.

This exchange was soon followed by a heavy *BANG,BANG,BANG* on the door and a loud, “OPEN UP YOU MF-ing LITTLE SHIT!!!”

I ran to my room and crawled under my bed, while sister dealt with the leather-clad unhappy camper.

After much swearing and threatening and apologizing was exchanged, the coast was clear.

Except that my sister decided to try her hand at physical punishment by spanking me.

I laugh in your face, Julie, at that pathetic attempt.

Even if I didn’t do so then.