My Brother
My brother is my best friend. I don't get to talk to him as much as I'd like anymore, and sometimes I'm amazed at how long we have to go between visits, but he's still my buddy. It wasn't always like that. As children, we were mortal enemies. Not always that bad, but close most of the time. I didn't like to pla Barbies with him because he would always make Ken fly up to the 3rd floor instead of using the Barbie Townhouse elevator. When we pinned towels around our necks to play Shazaam and Isis (I was Isis), as soon as I lifted my arms and did the "lift me now so I can fly" line, John would push me off the porch. He wrote his name on my imagination.
Guess I should explain that one because if I haven't wrote about that before I know at least Linda will be wondering, "HUH?". Ok, so here it is. When I was little, just learning how to talk, we were in the grocery store one time. This was many moons ago when there was still such a thing as dime stores and penny candy, and grocery stores stocked toys on the top of each aisle. I'd point to the little cloth doll and whine because I couldn't talk much yet. And as the little doll was quite expensive, my daddy would tell me I didn't really want that, it was just my imagination. He'd turn it into a game, and before you know it, I had forgot all about that little doll. But I would remember her the very next trip to the store, and again he'd tell me the same thing. Before too long I learned to talk and as soon as we walked in the door of the grocery store I'd start asking for my imagination. My dad and my mom had no clue what I was talking about. After (according to my dad) a LONG time of asking for my imagination, my dad decided that whatever my imagination was, I was going to have it. The next time we went to the grocery store and I started asking for it right inside the door, he let my mom go off to collect our groceries and he carried me through the entire store, down every aisle, pointing to every single thing, and he asked me "Is this your imagination?" We found the doll that day and I brought her home.
My imagination was my favorite thing in the world. One day John got mad at me for something and we had a big fight. I walked into the bedroom we shared together (I think I was probably in the 3rd grade at that time) and I caught him writing his name in magic marker across her face. To this day, on her forhead it says J-O-H. And yes, I still have her. She's 34 years old now, or close to it anyway. We do still call her my imagination. I have no idea what her name was originally. But I'm way off track...
We were normal kids I guess. John loved He-Man and G. I. Joe. I liked to play with dolls and Barbies. We went to different schools through high school, so I never saw him in the halls, and didn't hang out with him on weekends or anything. We saw each other at home and that was it. We had stopped being enemies some time around 9th grade I think (that was the last year we were in the same school) but we didn't become friends until I became pregnant with Leirin. I lived at home because I lost my job when I got pregnant because I couldn't work with the chemicals, and he was the person I hung out with most. We would shop for baby things together. He had a knack for picking out adorable boy clothes (and we were convinced I was having a boy for some reason) and every pack of diapers I bought, he would take one out and smell it. We would go to lunch together occasionally so I wouldn't be stuck in the house so much.
We had so much fun together. He was with me for doctors appointments. He was the first to hear each of my babies heartbeats (besides myself) and he went with me to every ultrasound appointment I've ever been scheduled for. My best friend. We lived out in the country - a place I really wish I could go back to. Behind my dads house was a large, open field then a big patch of woods. Rats had become a problem for the dogs. Eating their food, biting the dogs...it was getting bad so we came up with a plan. Being of the redneck type, of course it involved a gun (and poison gas) ;)
The back yard was riddled with holes the rats used to come and go underground. We would find them when we were out back trying to figure out a way to protect the dogs from the rats. We decided to launch an attack on the rats ourselves so we gathered up a supply of clorox and ammonia, a small rifle, and we went to work. Since I was pregnant I mostly stood and watched. We would pour a bit of bleach into the hole we found first, then add a bit of ammonia. We'd plug the hole immediately so they wouldn't come running back out at us. The gas would form a deadly white vapor cloud and all over the yard we would see it rising from other exits to the tunnel system. As the rats would run from the holes to escape, John would shoot them with the rifle. There were hundreds of them. HUGE field rats, bigger than many of our cats came running desperately from the gas filled tunnels and he'd knock them off, one by one. Redneck entertainment at it's best.
When Leirin was born, he was with me. Not during labor and delivery, but he stayed at the hospital from the time I went until it was over. When I came home he was a willing (and most excellent) babysitter. When he was laid off from his job after downsizing and he was home for a while spending his days going to school, looking for work and watching talk shows, he would call me up to tell me about the good ones. Ring, ring... "Hello." I'd say and John would practically squeal "Are you watching Sally? This woman just pissed me off!" He is my favorite person to discuss politics and religion with. He's a likable person. Just ask anyone.
He has always made time for me and my kids. Even after he married, when he would have days off work we would make plans to go out together. When I was car shopping, he would come along for test drives. When there was holiday shopping to be done, he was with me. When kids needed to go to the doctor and he didn't have to be at work, he went too. Now John has his own little boy and I'm so glad because he is a great dad. We don't get to see each other as often as we used to and our rat hunting days are behind us, but he is still my best friend.
My brother is my best friend. I don't get to talk to him as much as I'd like anymore, and sometimes I'm amazed at how long we have to go between visits, but he's still my buddy. It wasn't always like that. As children, we were mortal enemies. Not always that bad, but close most of the time. I didn't like to pla Barbies with him because he would always make Ken fly up to the 3rd floor instead of using the Barbie Townhouse elevator. When we pinned towels around our necks to play Shazaam and Isis (I was Isis), as soon as I lifted my arms and did the "lift me now so I can fly" line, John would push me off the porch. He wrote his name on my imagination.
Guess I should explain that one because if I haven't wrote about that before I know at least Linda will be wondering, "HUH?". Ok, so here it is. When I was little, just learning how to talk, we were in the grocery store one time. This was many moons ago when there was still such a thing as dime stores and penny candy, and grocery stores stocked toys on the top of each aisle. I'd point to the little cloth doll and whine because I couldn't talk much yet. And as the little doll was quite expensive, my daddy would tell me I didn't really want that, it was just my imagination. He'd turn it into a game, and before you know it, I had forgot all about that little doll. But I would remember her the very next trip to the store, and again he'd tell me the same thing. Before too long I learned to talk and as soon as we walked in the door of the grocery store I'd start asking for my imagination. My dad and my mom had no clue what I was talking about. After (according to my dad) a LONG time of asking for my imagination, my dad decided that whatever my imagination was, I was going to have it. The next time we went to the grocery store and I started asking for it right inside the door, he let my mom go off to collect our groceries and he carried me through the entire store, down every aisle, pointing to every single thing, and he asked me "Is this your imagination?" We found the doll that day and I brought her home.
My imagination was my favorite thing in the world. One day John got mad at me for something and we had a big fight. I walked into the bedroom we shared together (I think I was probably in the 3rd grade at that time) and I caught him writing his name in magic marker across her face. To this day, on her forhead it says J-O-H. And yes, I still have her. She's 34 years old now, or close to it anyway. We do still call her my imagination. I have no idea what her name was originally. But I'm way off track...
We were normal kids I guess. John loved He-Man and G. I. Joe. I liked to play with dolls and Barbies. We went to different schools through high school, so I never saw him in the halls, and didn't hang out with him on weekends or anything. We saw each other at home and that was it. We had stopped being enemies some time around 9th grade I think (that was the last year we were in the same school) but we didn't become friends until I became pregnant with Leirin. I lived at home because I lost my job when I got pregnant because I couldn't work with the chemicals, and he was the person I hung out with most. We would shop for baby things together. He had a knack for picking out adorable boy clothes (and we were convinced I was having a boy for some reason) and every pack of diapers I bought, he would take one out and smell it. We would go to lunch together occasionally so I wouldn't be stuck in the house so much.
We had so much fun together. He was with me for doctors appointments. He was the first to hear each of my babies heartbeats (besides myself) and he went with me to every ultrasound appointment I've ever been scheduled for. My best friend. We lived out in the country - a place I really wish I could go back to. Behind my dads house was a large, open field then a big patch of woods. Rats had become a problem for the dogs. Eating their food, biting the dogs...it was getting bad so we came up with a plan. Being of the redneck type, of course it involved a gun (and poison gas) ;)
The back yard was riddled with holes the rats used to come and go underground. We would find them when we were out back trying to figure out a way to protect the dogs from the rats. We decided to launch an attack on the rats ourselves so we gathered up a supply of clorox and ammonia, a small rifle, and we went to work. Since I was pregnant I mostly stood and watched. We would pour a bit of bleach into the hole we found first, then add a bit of ammonia. We'd plug the hole immediately so they wouldn't come running back out at us. The gas would form a deadly white vapor cloud and all over the yard we would see it rising from other exits to the tunnel system. As the rats would run from the holes to escape, John would shoot them with the rifle. There were hundreds of them. HUGE field rats, bigger than many of our cats came running desperately from the gas filled tunnels and he'd knock them off, one by one. Redneck entertainment at it's best.
When Leirin was born, he was with me. Not during labor and delivery, but he stayed at the hospital from the time I went until it was over. When I came home he was a willing (and most excellent) babysitter. When he was laid off from his job after downsizing and he was home for a while spending his days going to school, looking for work and watching talk shows, he would call me up to tell me about the good ones. Ring, ring... "Hello." I'd say and John would practically squeal "Are you watching Sally? This woman just pissed me off!" He is my favorite person to discuss politics and religion with. He's a likable person. Just ask anyone.
He has always made time for me and my kids. Even after he married, when he would have days off work we would make plans to go out together. When I was car shopping, he would come along for test drives. When there was holiday shopping to be done, he was with me. When kids needed to go to the doctor and he didn't have to be at work, he went too. Now John has his own little boy and I'm so glad because he is a great dad. We don't get to see each other as often as we used to and our rat hunting days are behind us, but he is still my best friend.
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