Memory Lane Monday

Memory Lane Monday is a way for me to reminisce about memories from my childhood even if I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

I think I'll start of my first MLM with the story of how I scarred my brother for life.  My brother is 13 years younger than me; no he's not an oops baby.  (Although my mother has everyone convinced that she waited so long to have more children because I was the demon spawn of Satan.)  Anyway, when he was around 3 or 4, my mom use to dress him in overalls a lot.  He did look darn cute in those overalls and of course they had this nifty pocket in the front where some years previously my sister had her first (and only) shop lifting experience at the ripe old age of 2 and hid a candy bar she picked up while we were checking out at the register of the local grocery store.  Anyway, being 13 years older than my brother was super fun for me.  I dressed him up, I got him to stay mean things, I painted his nails, basically he was my living toy.

Back to the overalls and the torture.  We had this fake, plastic fly that was the size of a silver dollar that we probably got out of a gum ball machine.  I was playing with it one day and noticed that Sean was afraid of this fly.  Unfortunately for him, I thought him screaming like a manic was hilarious.  So, I began to torture him with it just so I could get him to scream.  Well, he kept running away from me when I showed him the fly and I got the brilliant idea to put the fly in the chest pocket of his overalls so even if he did run, he would still scream.  Genius!  It worked.  No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't get away from this fly.  Of course I laughed hysterically, would take the fly out of his pocket, let him calm down and put the fly right back into his pocket for another round of side splitting laughter.  Little did I know the life long damage I had inflicted on my poor brother.

My Korean grandfather, who spoke VERY little English came to live with us for a short period of time while we were in Indiana.  (He could say some semblance of our names, he could ask to go fishing "feeshing", he could ask for a pb & j "peanut butter jelly" and he could tell us to go to school "go schoo.")  My mother is constantly telling us stories of how poor they were, not to guilt us or anything but she actually thinks these stories are hilarious, and how they use to have to make their toys.  I guess a really fun thing for poor Korean children is to play with bugs.  Like they used to catch dragon flies by their wings and then tie string around their tails and fly them like kites or balloons.  They also liked to catch cicadas and pull their wings off and then let them walk around all hobbily wobbily.  I guess my grandfather remembered his kids doing this and caught a cicada and brought it in to the house for my brother to play with.  Of course he didn't know about the torture he had endured at my hands and tried to give it to my brother.  Needless to say my brother freaked the fark out!  My mom came home from work and my grandfather told her that Sean was hiding in the closet.  My mom found him in the closet and the poor thing was hiding under a Korean mink blanket, sweating, shaking like a leaf babbling "Papa, buga buga."  (He called flies buga bugas.)  My mom was totally freaked out.  She asked her dad what happened and he told her the story.  My mom lost it.  She couldn't even tell the story without laughing hysterically.  She still can't really tell the story without a lot of hitting (my mom is a hitter when she laughs, no lie) and laughing. 

To this very day, if my brother is caught off guard by a fly, he will jump.  He kills flies like they are some kind of mutated, poison/plague carrying alien.  Flies do not get to stay alive around my brother.  He will hunt them down until they are destroyed.  I feel sorry for any fly that crosses my brother's path because they do not have a chance.

I still laugh when this story gets told or when some wayward fly scares my brother but sometimes I do feel a little guilty that I'm the one who did that to him.  (Don't tell him I said that though.)