Guest Post: Sam

Hey guys, one of this week's writing prompts is to have a sibling or friend share a story (in their own words) about yours truly that you may not have heard before. I asked my brother to do this, since he has a blog of his own. Plus, I trust him to tell you a story that's not too damaging to my reputation. 

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Hello.  I’m sure you got all excited to see that my dear sister has updated her blog, but unfortunately, she copped out this week and gave this one to me.  Hopefully I can live up to the high expectations Ellie has set.  Who is me?  I am her younger brother.  The one that reached legal adulthood.  I’m supposed to tell a story about Ellie that ya’ll might not have heard.  As a younger brother, I can definitely fill that role.  See, as the only male child until 2003, I had a lot to handle with two older sisters.  These are just a few of the ways they, and especially Ellie, occasionally made life difficult.

The first story is about a terrible relief for heat.  See, my duty as son around age 10 was to mow the front lawn.  In the Tennessee heat, this was a tiring task.  When I was done, I would be sweaty, hot, and in need of some cold refreshment.  Everyone’s had lemonade, right?  Sweet, delicious lemonade.  Well, this one time, my sisters made me some.  I was thrilled, because lemonade is great.  So I took a biiig old swig. 

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And promptly spat it out, because my dear loving sisters made it with water, ice, and straight lemon juice.  I then spent the next 10 minutes chasing them around the house, trying to dump it on their heads in payback.

I suppose you could chalk up that last incident to childish immaturity.   Sadly, this would not be the last time I would have to deal with my sisters’ antics.  We loved going to our grandparent’s house in NY, in part because we enjoyed helping our grandfather around the house, hauling wood, mowing, and, on one occasion, painting his barn.  We used a rust-red stain to do so, and it was a messy job.  The rollers would flick stain all over us, regardless of how careful we were.

In any case, I want you to imagine a roller pan.  You know, with the one end stable and squared off and slanting up to the other end, so there’s some space under it when the other end sits level.  The paint sits in the one end, and you roll the roller in it to get it all painty.  Ok, so you have this roller pan in your head, filled with runny red stain.

(ok just pretend it's red and not white)

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Now, we’ll move to describe my situation.  I was helpfully on a ladder, because I have the distinction of being vertically challenged since 1991.  However, on a ladder, I can’t reach everything, so I would have to move the ladder every few minutes.  Remember that roller pan?  Ellie was using one just like it, and she was painting next to me without a ladder.  And where does she choose to leave it?  Right at the foot of my ladder, that’s right!

I went to step down from the ladder to scootch it on over, and set my foot on the slanted end, sending the stain straight up the back of my leg.  I imagine it looked like my femoral artery was severed on that leg.  I was appropriately furious and yelled at her.  Lucky for her, there was no chasing and dousing as in the last story, as the stain was a pain to get out of hair.

And there you have it.  A little story or two you may not have known about Ellie.  Thanks for bearing with me, and next week I’m sure she’ll return to her regularly scheduled funny stuff.

Disclaimer: These stories aside, I am really lucky to have my sisters.  Nobody messes with them but me, m’kay?

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So now you all know, I was a devious and sometimes careless child. I won't deny it but Sam made an easy target. I notice he didn't tell you about the time we made him wear a dress and have a pretend picnic on the floor of the kitchen....huh, weird. 

However, I'm glad to say our relationship has improved since then and I pride myself in thinking these traits have not carried over to adulthood....mostly....

Thanks Sam!