June 22, 2004

Big Brother

Growing up, I had one primary fear, and that was of my older brother, Reg. I didn't fear him like the way you might fear a bear, or Michael Jackson, but I did fear him.

I feared Reg in the way that most siblings probably fear a brother who is four years older. Reg was always bigger and stronger than me, and he liked to prove that to me rather routinely.

For the most part, we would get along but, inevitably, the teasing side of Reg would emerge, and I'd basically be at his mercy.

During one winter morning, when I was about eight, with school running two hours late due to a snowfall, my parents were out of the house, and I was happily sleeping in. I was nice and warm and snug in my bed, blissfully unaware that Reg and I were the only ones in the house, and that Reg was feeling mischievous.

"Time to get up!" yelled Reg in a high-pitched voice, while barging into my room.

I tried to ball myself up all nice and protected in my blankets, but Reg was able to whisk them off me with relative ease. I wasn't dressed for a sibling round of teasing. I was wearing only a pair of Superman underoos which, despite their misleading packaging, did not imbue me with super-human strength. If anything, the only thing the underoos did was make me look pretty pathetic and teaseworthy. The only underwear I owned that looked even more pathetic were these pairs that featured little firetrucks and dalmations. They were soft and cottony, and Reg always taunted me with them, calling them "my little boy panties."

'Moooooooommmmmmmm!!" I screamed, as Reg dragged me down the stairs.

"Mom can't help you now," said Reg, laughing. "Neither can Dad. It's just you and me."

I kicked and flailed to no avail. I didn't know what Reg had planned for me, but when he started opening the porch door, I had a pretty good idea.

With a heave and a toss, I found myself enveloped in a soft blanket of freshly fallen snow. A little known fact about Superman underoos: they don't offer much in the way of warmth. I scurried back to the front door, only to discover that Reg had locked me out. I caught a glimpse of him in the window, laughing maniacally.

I figured I still had a chance of getting to the back door before Reg locked that, too, but that would have meant pushing through waist-deep snow, and that would be really, really cold. Still, I had to try something. After all, there I was, practically naked for all the world to see, save for a skimpy pair of Superman underoos, which were quickly becoming wet and soggy thanks to the melting snow.

Crying at the top of my lungs, I started to make my way around the house to the back door. That's when it happened.

As I stood in the middle of the yard, bawling, in sopping wet Superman underoos, two school buses went by, each one packed with fellow elementary students who, if you're at all familiar with elementary students, were always on the lookout for ammunition with which to tease and taunt other students.

Well, you couldn't ask for much better taunting and teasing ammunition than a bawling third-grader, standing in the snow in a pair of soaking Superman underoos. That's some taunting and teasing gold right there.

When I finally made my way to the back door, I found Reg standing there, and he informed me I had to recite a verse extolling his greatness before he let me back in. I can't remember it verbatim but, through my pathetic, gasping crying, I managed to say something like this:

"My brother, Reg, is the greatest brother in the whole world, and I'm ugly and stupid and not worth poop."

With that, Reg let me back in the house. The whole ordeal probably only lasted about five minutes, but it had been the coldest, most embarrasing, most miserable five minutes I could remember.

When I got to school, I wasn't there for more than ten minutes before one of my classmates came up to me and said "Up, up and a-wahhhhhhhhh!" And the day didn't get much better after that.

In retrospect, I think I owe my brother some payback for that little episode.

Posted by Ryan at June 22, 2004 12:56 PM

You should push him into an electric fence.

Posted by: Jim at June 22, 2004 01:09 PM

well, thou art a successful blogger in the blogging circles. Will has a pretty good handle on keeping his brother in line. There are many avenues for revenge, for a creative good looking bald guy... you could steal (I mean borrow)a variation of the PostcardsforMom idea too....

Posted by: leah at June 22, 2004 02:01 PM

At least you had underwear on. And were a kid. And could move away when you grew up and never see any of those kids again. And your kids didn't see it. Or your neighbors, including the horny guy across the street who seemed to think that he had a special bond with me because he'd seen the floppies and the disks. So to speak. I caught him outside my window after the whole naked on the front porch thing. (See my comment on "Naked confrontation".) Although I didn't have snow. (If I'd had, it would have been nipply cold though! LOL) Scarred for life man.
Ryan, revenge is a dish best served cold.

Posted by: Donna at June 22, 2004 10:09 PM

I think you need to post a picture of your ass in superman underoos.

Like Hungry Hungry Hippos, underoos were one of those things I always wanted but never had as a kid.

Posted by: David Grenier at June 23, 2004 12:46 PM
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