Years ago. I stood in our kitchen. In front of the refrigerator. Facing my sister. My older sister. I don’t know what we were standing there saying. Or doing. I can promise you this….she was antagonizing me and asking for trouble. But I held back. Honest.
My hand slipped.
And I slapped her.
Oddly enough mom was there. In the kitchen. And asked what happened. She was right there! Apparently she couldn’t see what happened. How could she have been so close and not seen it?
So she asked why my sister, who I will call “Bubba” because as God is my witness that is what we call her, was crying.
Talk about drama queen. Why didn’t she squall a little bit more for effect.
Bubba told her I slapped her.
Mom asked me why.
Duh! (But I don’t think we had “duh” in our vocabulary back then yet). I said, quite honestly: “my hand slipped”.
I am pretty sure Mom believed it. Because I think I recall a smile. Pretty certain of it.
Interesting twist to this story. Some time later I recall being SLAPPED AWAKE from a sound sleep. To see Bubba crying. Again. Because she told mom I had her pillow. Really? That’s cry worthy? And worthy of a slap? To this day I think mom let her slap me awake and then let me think she did it.
For pay backs.
Now, today, Bubba turns older.
Older than me.
Happy Birthday Bubba. And I can’t help it if you don’t read my blog. Everyone will believe all of these things to be the truth.
PS…..you have a slap coming…..