How many times did you hear that as a kid?
If you were told once you were told a thousand times.
Dad had to time that old, old (I thought he came up with it) saying. Not because he was all that socially kind, but because I had asthma as a kid and teen. In the middle of a 3 day asthma attack and I’m asking, “Why is it just me?” my Dad didn’t say, “Life is not fair.” I never really felt sorry for myself, except at certain times when I couldn’t keep up with the other kids. I had the great fortune to meet another kid that had asthma, but he was in a wheelchair… That was an enlightening moment.
This is a little background for you about the family. I was the only sickly kid in the family so my parents had to make it up as they went along. I’m fairly certain I was treated no differently, except during the attacks. I know they were hardest on my Dad. A man built to fight and protect can only stand there and watch.
But that is NOT when I learned life was not fair, oh no, not even close.
My sister is now 8 years older than me. When we were kids she was only 7 years older, but I would yield to the math and stop at 71/2. Funny what old age does to a big sister, b/c now she says 7.
Don’t feel sorry for her, not at all. She used to beat me up all the time for no reason at all! I never started it, and never came close to winning for 10 years. When she picked a fight with me she would “turn her rings around”, not off, never off. And then commence beating on me until I fell then she would pounce on me a tickle me until Mom came and saved me.
That’s not when or how I learned life is not fair.
At age 9 I saw my first karate meet. Talk about cool beyond cool. “Dad! Can I learn how to do that?!?” 2 months later I was trading punches in the adult class. It was the only class I could take because of how far away it was. Was I scared? No, none of them were bigger than my Dad. It had to suck for them though, sparing with a kid had to be weird.
A few months later I was practicing in the living room, putting together kick combos, it wasn’t going very well b/c I couldn’t figure out how to flow from once stance to the next, so I kept falling. My sister was doing a running commentary. Finally, I had had enough, “Lets see what you have smarty pants!” She got up, turned her rings around, threw 1 punch, I blocked it and gave her a round house kick to the head (shin to the chin), knocked her down, I pounced and tickled her w/o mercy until Mom pulled me off. Hopping with joy (literally) I announced to the world “I beat you, I beat you!” Poor sportsmanship? Yeah, but that was the 1st time I had beaten anyone in the family at anything. (No one ever let anyone win, ever). Greatest moment of my young life.
Then Dad came home.
“Son, we need to have a talk.” Since I hadn’t done anything wrong (in a couple of days), I thought he was going to congratulate me for beating my sister.
But no, it wasn’t to be.
“Son, you’re to bid now to wrestle with you sister anymore.” I shot straight up! My jaw dropped to my chest, eyes wide in outrage. I dropped to a squatting position, palms up in a pleading way.
“What stopped her ALL these year?”
“She’s becoming a young lady now, and you should know better” It did not help that he was clearly trying to keep from laughing.
“But she started it! She turned her rings and threw the 1st punch!! THAT’S NOT FAIR!” I commenced to stomp around the room demanding justice and other things until my Dad started laughing.
(Outraged) “What’s so funny?”
“My Dad had the same talk with me, about your age, after I hip tossed both of your aunts to the ground. I didn’t think it was fair either.”
“So you are going to do the same unfair thing to me b/c it was done to you?! THAT’S EVEN MORE NOT FAIR!”
“That’s enough of that. You are getting to be big and strong. If something happens to me, I need to know that there will be someone here to protect you Mom and sister. You think you can do that?”
Grinding teeth, arms flailing, kicking the carpet, breathing deeply “OK, I’ll look out for everyone. But can we still wrestle?”“Yes we can.”
“You said yes!” Charged in and head butted him in the guts. (I don’t recall winning that one)
The Dadmedowns;
Don’t pity anyone, nobody likes to be pitied, unless they are pitiful.
Don’t let someone win, it will mean so much more when they do.
The family is to be protected, especially the ladies. (If you think that’s sexist, to bad)
When in doubt, blame your sister, b/c she will rat you out at the drop of a hat.
And life really is not fair, it was never meant to be, and if it was it wouldn’t be a four letter word.
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heidibeth
Colony of Losers
Kirsten Macdissi
John Boni
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Max Frank
Salon.com
Comments
That's part of childhood. Getting dirty, then being tought how to do the wash.
Were you one of those evil big sisters?)
She would encourage the fights, telling my brothers that I could beat them both up. So I grew up fighting them both. My favored punishment was to wet my hands and slap their bare backs. They never wore shirts in the house for the most part. Those lovely red hand prints were my pride. Eventually they grew, grew bigger than me. But they never fought me they was I fought them.
My mom's accomplishment: to never be afraid to fight a man if necessary. Her gift to me when I moved into my own apartment: a small iron frying pan and promises that my brothers would harm anyone who hurt me. Of course the reverse is true too. I am to protect them in the same manner.
Great story. Thought you might like to hear it from a female perspective, sort of like one.
Don't get me wrong, I love to rag on my sister as much as she does on me. And my sister looked out for me.
A teen was hassling my sister at the bus stop, I jumped in between and demanded that he leave her alone. He tried to push me down(i just rolled to the side), but my sister hit him with an uppercut. Knocked him down with one punch.
-R-
Thank you very much for sharing this, and yes, it did indeed bring back some painful memories.
Rated with five dryers from the emporium!
My dad was about three years dead at that point, but I didn't need him to tell me I didn't need to fight her anymore. That one was enough for both of us.
Great post.
You missed out on all the sibling rivalry? That sucks. Did they at least compare school grades? I swear my parents (Dad) fostered it.
L,
Just bribery? No extortion?
Doug,
Thanks. It's kinda fun doing this.
Cindy,
I don't doubt for one moment you pulled a knife.
Round house kick. It's bringing your back leg forward in a hooking motion. Imagine a teen boy punching an 18 y/o girl with a power hook. I'd say I feel bad, but I don't like to lie;]
Henry,
A 2nd aunt had a saying for her boys after their dad died. "What would himself say." You basically knew what your Dad would have said. And that says a lot about you and your Dad.
Had to teach my son to not fight with his sisters though. He was in the middle of 2 girls who started things (especially the younger one) and once I finally sat on him the way he sat on his sister to show him how it felt to be abused by someone stronger.
I later learned how often she started those fights just to get him in dutch. Sisters!
Yeah, boys learn the hard way (well at least not just me)
out numbered to! ouch. My Dad always said, "I'm the smartest man you know." He was the only one, but that wasn't the point.
Nothing persuades more than power.
Jon,
Bad memories?
l'Heure Bleue,
Hope I made your day
Sheila,
Sounds like someone else is passing on the Dadmedowns.
Libmomrn,
The strangest of relations. If she stubbed her toe, I was the first one to laugh and poke fun. If anyone else did? Lord help them.
He could grow up to be a polotician, or at least a spin doctor. HAHA