$0.99 or FREE for Prime Members
All's not quiet on the home front.
Young children adore their parents. How they feel about their siblings is another matter.
John Phythyon had an idyllic life until the day they brought him home. The arrival of a Little Brother turned his tranquil existence into a non-stop competition for their parents' attention, for control of the television on Saturday mornings, and to determine once and for all who was the superior brother.
In his third comical mini-memoir, Phythyon turns his absurdist pen to reminiscing about how he and brother Dave teamed up to dominate the neighborhood in baseball, battled over toys at home, and managed to organize an all-out playground war between the fourth and third grades at school just to establish which brother was greater. A quick read, "Domestic Disturbance" will convince you that "brotherly love" is truly a complicated phrase.
Excerpt
There
are other advantages to having a Little Brother besides teaming up
against the neighborhood. Sometimes, he can get you out of a sticky
situation at school.
I
was a pretty smart-mouthed, sassy kid in those days. I frequently
said conceited things that irritated others, and my tongue had a
tendency to write checks my butt couldn’t cash.
When
I was in third grade, this behavior got me sideways with a girl named
Kristen. I don’t really remember what happened. I didn’t interact
with her much. She was in my class. She was also one of the smart
kids. But we didn’t have a lot of contact.
Somehow,
though, I’d made her really mad, and she decided she was going to
teach me a lesson. She demanded to fight me. A giant gang of
third-graders surrounded us, and this one was not ending until one of
us was on the ground, humiliated.
I
was terrified. First of all, I’d always been taught not to hit
girls. Boys didn’t do that sort of thing. How could I win a fight
with her if I wasn’t allowed to punch her?
Secondly,
I wasn’t sure I could take her.
She
was angrier than a hornet and was determined to make me pay for
whatever it was I’d done. I wasn’t that good a fighter to begin
with. I didn’t know what to do.
“I
don’t hit girls,” I said, trying to sound confident and defuse
the situation.
“Then
I guess you’re gonna get beat up,” she retorted.
Now
I was in a real panic. She’d called my bluff. I either had to try
to fight her or let her pummel me. I didn’t like either of those
options.
But
sometimes, inspiration hits like lightning at just the right moment.
There was no way out of this, but maybe I could prevent it from being
a total disaster.
“If
you’re so determined to fight,” I said, “then you need to let
me get someone to fight for me. I won’t hit a girl.”
My
mad plan worked. Kristen was willing to accept my proxy.
“I’ll
be right back,” I said.
I
was allowed out of the circle, and I dashed across the playground to
where the second-graders played. I found Dave and explained the
situation to him.
Understanding
people is a critical skill for success in life, and I understood Dave
pretty well then. Because he was smaller than a lot of the other kids
in his class and our neighborhood, he had a chip on his shoulder to
prove he was tougher than anyone else. I suspect my continual efforts
to dominate him contributed to this Little Man’s Disease as well.
Regardless,
I knew Dave was always eager to prove he was tougher than anyone else
and that he scoffed at the usual rules. A frequent visitor to the
principal’s office, he had a natural contempt for authority. Plus,
he was always willing to defend me, despite the fact that I treated
him so poorly.
So I knew when I went to find him that, while I might not be
willing to hit a girl, Dave certainly was.
I
returned to the ring with Dave in tow. Kristen looked him up and down
dismissively.
“He’ll
fight you,” I said.
She
looked him over again while the crowd awaited her judgment anxiously.
Kristen nodded and set up in a fighting stance. I stepped back as the
circle closed around Dave.
“Okay,
let’s go,” Kristen said.
Dave
belted her in the nose.
Kristen
went down immediately, grabbing her face. Tears streamed from her
eyes, whether from crying or just from being punched in the nose, I
didn’t know. A gasp went through the crowd. My mouth fell open in
shock and delight.
Kristen
didn’t get up. Dave turned and walked away wordlessly as though
nothing of any significance had happened. I made myself scarce before
Kristen’s friends could inflict any sort of revenge on me.
Nine
years later, Kristen was elected homecoming queen at De Pere High
School. From that point forward, the story became known as The Day
Dave Punched out The Homecoming Queen.
No comments:
Post a Comment