Here’s the third installment of IAISMC. The first one was running behind the DDT jeep.
My sister told me a few weeks ago that she has competed with me since I was born. Why???? I am about as competitive as a rock.
When I was little, we lived in Red Bank, NJ. It’s a wonderful little town if you want someplace cool to go. Anyways, my sister and I had friends way down at the other corner who’s last name was Scarpelino. We were allowed to walk down to her house. This was the sixties, back when kids could just roam. A lot of the streets with houses in Red Bank have slate instead of cement sidewalks. For some God awful reason, we decided to race home on uneven slate. Call me Fleet Foot, I was ahead. Prancing and a dancing, just like Stewball.
I was only five, but I was beating my nine year-old sister, and the Scarpelinos and whoever else was with us. Maybe I should rename myself Fleet Foot.
We were just getting to the last slate before we left the sidewalk to go into my grandmother’s backyard, when I felt a leg come out in front of mine. Bam! Face plant! I remember just screaming like hell, and walking home alone because everyone.just.scattered. I needed five stitches.
Years later, I asked her why she did it. Her answer? She wanted to win. Well, that’s nice. Kill the little sister.
It’s ok. Last Christmas she felt guilty about all the wonderful ways she tortured me while we were growing up, so she bought me an IPad. She can trip me anytime. Next time, I want a pony.
I think my sister is thinking of ways she could dispose of me. My brother has his typical don’t take my picture face. My dad is sporting his Army crew cut.