An Ode to my brother
When we were very young, we shared a room - two twin beds separated by a night stand. Somehow, prior to bedtime, my brother got into the habit of farting ever so delicately on my pillow and placing my blanket back over, locking the offending scent into my pillow. Unknowingly I would jump into bed, face first into the pillow only to rise choking, wretching and scratching at my face. My brother would laugh himself silly. This of course would only instigate me to find something worse to do unto him. We would each resort to farting on pillows, placing lego and cars underneath the sheets so that we would bruise upon jumping on the bed. Never did it ever occur to us to not jump on the bed.
Needless to say, we always had bruises and cuts on our bodies.
Coming up with new and inventive ways to hurt or drive me crazy was my brothers ultimate goal. One Christmas, we went as a family to Florida Key West and stayed in a rented apartment. He and I again had to share a room, separated by a nightstand. As the lights went out, he began to pick his nose with a certain ferociousness, all the time telling me so. He then made an exaggerated flicking sound with his finger. Of course I screamed like a banshie for him to leave me alone, when all of a sudden I felt a large wet splat on my face. Stumbling out of bed, voice shrill, I turned the light on to find a very large dime sized booger dripping down my face.
This is what I lived with and despite the horrors of it, we always laughed, because we were sick little fuckers. These days we just compare how stinky our farts are, and I use what my sage older brother taught me to torture RB and others.