by Kung Fu Zu 3/5/15
It is an immutable law of nature, on par with the First Law of Thermodynamics, that in fraternal relations, younger brothers come out with the short end of the stick.
My older brothers were kind enough to torture me in ways as diverse as making me lick their shoes to hog tying. These loving acts went unpunished by my parents as, in the general course of events, one does not rat out one’s brothers. One suffers in silence.
Fortunately, there are rare occasions when it seems we drift into a bizzaro world, where the laws of nature are turned on their head; where water runs uphill and light is neither a wave nor a particle. In such worlds, even little brothers have their day. One such occasion took place when I was about three and a half years old.
My brother and I were having a spit fight in our back yard. This game consisted of me running and my brother spitting. As one might imagine, I was not too keen on the idea, but having a minority vote in the enterprise I did my best to stay mobile.
After some minutes of dodging my brother’s best efforts to shower me with his sputum, I had the misfortune of zigging when I should have zagged. The result of this miscalculation was a spray of saliva in my face.
As I wiped the moisture off my mug, my brother stopped in front of me and laughed uproariously. He stood there braying like a donkey.
Whether by design or instinct, I saw my opportunity and gathered a huge amount of spit in my mouth. In nothing flat, I let it fly. I watched this projectile arc toward my brother and land in the middle of his mouth. Bingo!!!
Immediately my brother’s laughter died. The expression on his face looked as if he had just swallowed drain cleaner. His eyes grew to the size of saucers. He grasped his neck with both hands as if he were gagging and let out a sound which was something between uggh and a scream. Jumping up and down, he started spitting all around trying to clear his mouth of my special delivery.
By this time, I knew I had best make myself scarce. Seeing me attempt to effect my escape, my brother started after me. It was fortunate that we had a large Mimosa tree in our back yard as I positioned it between us.
Naturally, this scene was accompanied by much noise, which attracted the attentions of our mother. She appeared at the back door and demanded to know what was going on. I do not recall exactly who said what, but the truth eventually came out and my mother expressed her disgust with both of us, but particularly at my older brother since he “should have known better.”
Mother then broke a switch off said Mimosa tree and gave us both a short sharp lesson in personal hygiene.
My legs stung as I walked away, but that was a small price to pay for the joy of besting my big brother. • (1872 views)