I have siblings. Lots of them.
With so many of us it was so very easy to get lost in the mix of them all and not always stand out.
But every very rare once in awhile something happens. And infamy is yours.
There was the briefest moment in time, where my wit exceeded my abilities.
It was unplanned. It was unrehearsed. I don’t know where it came from. I’ve been searching for it ever since.
Many of my siblings are younger. And more wah-babier.
My sister and I were standing in front of the refrigerator. It’s interesting to note that I have no idea what led up to the encounter. Only the few seconds after.
She did something, of that I am sure.
I slapped her.
Of that I am sure.
She cried. Of that I am oh so positive.
Mom was right there (which lends credence to the fact that younger sibling indeed did do something to prompt me to slap her in front of mom).
Mom, on the spot, hands on hips, did not ask me if I had slapped her. She demanded “why did you slap her?!”
Without missing a beat I replied “my hand slipped”.
Without a doubt, my most brilliant response in all my years of living.
And I’m pretty sure I nailed the recreation of our kitchen floor circa 1970.