Not that we ever do. Not anymore. We do occasionally disagree, we don't get angry with each other (or if we do, we don't stay that way.)
Maybe we got it out of our systems when we were kids. There were days, back then, when we had nothing but cross words for and with each other. And when we fought, we fought for blood. Seriously.
Usually the fights were the product of me laughing at them for something.
One of them was allergic to tomatoes. and poison ivy. and many other things. I thought her rashes were funny. She did not appreciate my humor.
One of them had chronic ear infections. One of them was clumsy. All of these things I found funny.
But not any more.
That is because, in the words of my Grandma McKenzie (and that illustrious poetic Justin Timberlake) what goes around. comes around.
I never had earraches as a child. But I have one now. A bad one. I am worried because the last one I had, not all that long ago, lasted three months. It is not funny. And worse. The sister I laughed at has been sending me sweet get well messages.
Last Spring I fell in the parking lot of the baseball parking lot due to a combination of ear infection/vertigo and getting my feet tangled up in an overly long purse strap. I was carrying the grandchild of my sister who had the childhood clumsies at the time. I rolled up on the baby and she received only slight injury. I felt horrible about it. I also tore up my knees and ruined my best khaki pants.
I used to chase my allergic sister with poison ivy. Now I can see it in a book and rash up.
When we were in Italy, I went to step into a gondola and went tumbling. The gondolier, who was too busy smoking a cigarette to offer me a hand in, looked up and said "Oochie!" I don't know what "Oochie" means, (and I am not even sure that is how it is spelled) all I know for sure is that it made me as mad as a wet hen. My sisters who were witnesses, must have felt some sense of satisfaction. Now they know I know how they felt when I laughed at them.
No comments:
Post a Comment