Monday, May 11, 2015

If The Suitcase Fits.

ready to go

My brother and I had a bet about whether or not a person could fit in a suitcase.  I told him there was absolutely no way.

I called him a liar.  I told his friends and we all laughed at him. 


ready to go 2

So of course he got out a suitcase and insisted that a person could fit in a suitcase and I promptly ignored him.   He kept trying to get me to look while he unzipped the suitcase and stepped in and started to fold himself up.

I kept ignoring him, not saying a word.

I heard a long zip and then a muffled voice laughing hysterically and saying he "told me so."  I walked over, flipped the little latch to lock the zipper and stood back.  He grew tired of crowing, and I imagine a little cramped, and started to try to unzip the suitcase.

Then the suitcase fell over and then there was more screaming and he was begging me to help him.  I tried to pull on the zipper, it would not give.  I told him it might be stuck and I was sorry but I had to go.  

The Brady Bunch was on!!

He did manage to get out. 

He pushed the suitcase under the bed and quickly came down to supper, glaring at me.  

After supper there was this sort of wounded bull bellow from Grandpa's bedroom and we were summoned.  He was pointing to his ripped open, ruined favourite suitcase with the broken zipper that was strangely wet and smelling of urine.  He demanded to know who had done such a thing.

My brother pointed at me and said he had tried to talk me out of it but I had insisted and then I would not wait for him to get help to get me out and I ripped it.  He stood there with such a smug look on his face, triumphant.  He had won in soooo many ways.

I smiled back.

It seemed the polite thing to do.

And then I smiled at my grandfather and pointed at my brother's face . . .  and his arm.  Then I lifted up his pant leg to show his calf where he had these strange tracks . . .  kind of like a zipper . . . all neat and pressed into his skin, scraped in some places, and even bleeding a little.

I put o n my puppy dog sad eyes, wiped a little tear and shook my head from the profound sadness that filled the room as we all realized that my brother was a bad bad boy AND a liar.  The pain was almost too much.

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I stepped out of the way so Grandpa had room to get his belt off.

Sometimes one really has to consider the cost of being right.  Is it really worth it? 

I often wonder if my brother ever reflects back on his life, grateful for all the life lessons I taught him.  I fear he might not, even the wiser, older version of him.  It is tough to be so brilliant, even as a young child.  You just are never fully appreciated by your own family. 


SKIN:  Essences :Alice Yuki *medium01*
HAIR:  AD  - ring - light blondes
HAIR FLOWER:  Dashwood - "ROSE"  Red Formal/Wedding Gown
EYES:  Egozy.Eyes Enigmatic   dark brown
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash ADVANCED LASHES STANDARD with hud
MAKE-UP:  [MyDear]Hygeia Lipstick 24
                    #adored  - last night - smoke pack
NECKLACE:  PIDIDDLE - Lost Princess Necklace
NAILS:  Candy Nail #P000 Basic Prim Nails Red08
LEGGINGS:  :AC: Lace Back Seam[Marshmallow]
DRESS:  ::FAC:: Zoey Tunic Dress Red
SHOES:  Ingenue :: Audrei :: Candy Apple (l)
POSES:  PoSEioN
SUITCASE:  {vespertine- machinarium suitcase/dots}
  
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