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Gotta fight for your rights - a story

Monday, May 9, 2011

Trae and Blair enjoying their lunch alfresco.


The other day someone said to me that they couldn't see me getting mad.

Well, I do. And I have plenty of times. Mainly they are just irritations and I hate to yell but I do occasionally, on too many occasions I am sure.
But no, I haven't really, really been mad in a long time - the kind of mad where I wanted to hit someone. That kind of mad.

I have never hit anyone by the way.
The closest I got was throwing a snowball at the face of a neighbor girl when she came up to sled down my driveway.

And now the rest of the story...


We lived out in the country on the side of a hill overlooking a valley. Having the longest hill to use for sledding invited everyone to come up especially when it was icy. You could really get in a nice run under those conditions. It was like our personal bobsled course.

After I put on all of my snow gear, I excitedly went outside because this girl was sledding in my yard after all. I had a silver aluminum saucer that was super fast and I was ready to go.

When I got out there she said I wasn't invited to sled with her. I was so surprised I couldn't even fathom the thought of not being invited to play, especially on my own property.

So I told her to get off of my land, then. She yelled, "No!" and tried to intimidate me with a stern look. She could have knocked me out in one punch too. I told her again that if she was going to sled in my yard and driveway, then I could too. Seemed fair to me.

She, again, said no and this time pushed me out of the way. I was really mad at the injustice of that moment so all I could think of doing was pack a big icy snowball and chuck it at her. So I did and it was a perfect aim, hitting her smack dab in the middle of the forehead. The snowball broke apart and chunks of snow landed in her eyebrows and eyelashes. I was really surprised at myself and then had an "Uh oh!" moment.

She couldn't decide if she was going to let go of the sled and send her brother down the icy slope off our hillside or kill me.

She chose to kill me. I chose to run.
Do you know it's really hard to run in 2 feet of snow??

Meanwhile, her little brother went sailing down the hill and crashed into a bank.

So I was panting and trying to high step it. I could see my breath as I began to breathe hard. I kept looking back to see if she was coming and kept slipping on the ice underneath the layer of snow. She was gaining on me and I knew for sure I was going to get beat up. Her brother finally made it back up the hill dragging the sled behind him. She yelled at him to go back and get their dad.
I wondered why she was asking that. Did she need help hiding my body??

Just then I heard my brother's voice yell from a window of our house. I was saved, I thought and stopped running. I was so happy for being the youngest.
Brett, being 6 years older than me, could handle my tormentor so he came outside and marched to where we were.

With a commanding stance and a challenging voice, he said, "Oh yeah? Go ahead and get your dad. I'll go get my mom...and she can yell louder than anyone!"

They quickly left and we felt triumphant in defending our rights and strangely proud of my mother's ability to yell.

3 comments:

  1. Love that story. So good when the brother saves the day.
    And that girl deserved the snowball! What a jerk!!

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  2. Way to go. It was your house, your rules.

    Do you think she recognized you without all the snow gear and scarf later?

    (Go get Dad - what a wimp!)

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  3. Ha ha, thanks. Yeah, we laughed about it years later - funny childhood memories!

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