Welcome back to another episode of Sister Chronicles. To say that I was always the victim in our sibling disputes would be a lie; I’ve occasionally played the part as the bully. Today’s post consists of two events that happened in my childhood.
Event 1: Broomsticks In Yo’ Face.
Siblings often like to compete with one another. Cindy and I happened to be in our backyard one afternoon. I was around the age of eight at this time. My sister was trying to impress me by balancing a broomstick at the base of her palm. Trying to one-up her, I attempted the same thing. Every time I failed, which was every few seconds, I was bombarded with, “Haha, you can’t do it!” I couldn’t face defeat, so I remained persistent and continued to proudly fail.
It was when I was improving ever-so-slightly when my sister lost interest in our competition. As she focused her attention elsewhere, I became a veteran in broomstick balancing. I excitedly shouted, “Look Cindy! I’m doing it!” The next scene could come straight out of a cliche movie clip. Her slow motion turn towards the broomstick was met with my loss of balance. The end result: the broomstick smacked her in the face. She screamed, shouted, and cried; I took this as a sign of admitting defeat. Andy the victor.
Event 2: Phones In Yo’ Face.
Siblings often like to compete with one another. I’ve already stated that, but I wanted to emphasize it once more. One of my birthday presents at the age of eight was a fake cellular phone that opened up with tiny little gadgets. This included a small notepad, a pen and pencil, tiny scissors, etc.. I was Inspector Gadget, but Asian.
Cindy and I were in our garage and sitting inside the back seat of our Camry. Because we were energetic little youth, our attention span quickly diminished while waiting for our mother to drive us out. I had the toy phone with me. For some reason, and I still can’t explain why, I started pretending to stab my sister in the face with it. Every time she looked away, I exclaimed, “Haha! You’re scared, Cindy! You’re looking away!”
Cindy was a brave little girl. She interpreted the situation and came to the conclusion that her loving brother wouldn’t actually stab her in the face. Thus, there was no need to look away. She prepared herself for the impending doom of nothingness.
Andy was a smart man. Judging by his sister’s body language and facial expressions, he used telepathy to read her mind: she isn’t going to look away. I must not hold back. What happened next, once again, comes straight out of a movie scene: Cindy looked at me dead in the eye while the tip of my cell phone stabbed her right below her eye. She immediately burst into tears, and I emerged the victor. My logic still boggles me to this day… Why the hell did I strike her?
My sister will forever be reminded of her two gruesome defeats in the hands of her younger brother. She has two small, barely visible scares beneath her eyelid and on her eyebrow. I’m sure she appreciates these gifts by her dear brother.
P.S. I’m sorry about the hiatus in blog updates. My mind has been elsewhere, and I’ve been stressed. I’ll try to post more often, for I find temporary salvation in writing!