Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...

Monday, April 26, 2010

Memoir Monday...with TV Travis!

Here's a little Memoir Monday...thanks to Travis at I Like to Fish...

Doing a three-fer post today. I think I'm on crack or lack of sleep is getting the best of me...OK,OK, the only crack I've had is ass crack...and it's not like I want it all up in my face! Anyhoo...here goes the memories. Run like hell!

This one is for my brother. He is still in his thirties...asshole. He has Crohn's disease and is in the later stages os PSC liver disease (same as what Chris LaDioux had) which became a complication from the first disease. My brother is handsome, kind, very tall, generous, and the most gentle soul. Yes, I'm the worst of the two. He, for many years searched for the right person to marry...and his sister axed most of those hoes. UGH. He had bad taste. He finally landed the love of his life who accepted the turd with his terminal illnesses. After thousands of dollars and invetro help...he and his wife had a beautiful baby girl. She looks just like him. Very cute and adorable as most children come.

So, anyway, back to the memory. This one was part of the making of my brother...I helped mold him as much as I could...Don't tell him, but he has a big part of my heart...and I always felt after dad died that I had to take care of him. Before that...I was a typical, mean, big sister...

I was 7, he was 3..

In our basement in Minnesota, we had a wide open floor with smooth cement. I often liked to roller skate or ride my big three-wheeled trike down there. Now, mind you, I had a nice shiny bike outside...but there was just something about racing that three-wheeled bike around the posts that was fun. And I would like to go fast. And I thought I was Mario.

He had a little Radio Flyer trike with tassles...his very own. It wasn't as cool as my big three-wheeler. He looked up to me. I was Big Sis. I was a bitch even back then. It was too late for me. He would follow me everywhere. He would SO get in the way of my glamourous nomadic style...doing my own thing...exploring the neighborhood, yada, yada. Who wanted a kid brother taggin along? Let alone one three years old? It cramped my style.

But my mom made me. Since...forever...I remember having to take him or do things with him. UGH! He was totally dissing my style. And how could I pick up neighborhood guys with him at my side..or even look like the cool tough chick on the block. I was the blockmafia chick in the making back then. The underboss...or something. Well, anyway, I always did what I was told. Under protest, mind you.

So, one day, I was in the basement...cycling away. He was watching. He would always whine and ask me to push him fast on his trike. So i did. It was really annoying. But, I was doing my duty as Big Sis.

He kept whining and wanted to ride my big trike. I told him NO. He kept whining and whining. He was such a little whiner. So, I finally said FINE. And put him on my big trike. I left him there and taunted him from across the room.

ME: See, you can't even reach the pedals.

[Bro's feet are dangling in his sleeper (with feet) pajamas]

BRO: Push me. Push me.

ME: No. You are a big boy on my trike. Pedal.

BRO: I can't reach! Push me. Push me.

So, irritated, I did. I pushed him. Then he liked it and demanded I did it...over and over. Well, now I wanted to play Barbies. Yes, most days I made him dress like a girl, play Barbies, and be the school kid I hit with a ruler. But at this age...I wanted to be independent. I wanted him to fly...baby bird...just go play with something.

I pushed him one last time...really hard. He had a big grin, I had a bigger grin. He went flying alright...right into my dad's gun case. CRASH! It broke. Glass all over. Bro was crying like a big sissy. He didn't even get cut. I was over him being a pussy. So, I moved him and told him..."SEE. SEE. People get hurt on big trikes. Quit crying, you will get me in trouble." Then...enter THE MOTHER.

Well, needless to say...I was in the gallows for quite some time. Maybe after about 40 spankings, I would get it. I was stubborn back in those days. I think she kept spanking me because I almost killed my brother and she panicked. I didn't hate her. I just had a sore butt. And Dad was none too happy about that whole incident when he came home...or countless others to come. I was destined to become a famous criminal like Butch Cassidy or Cattle KATE. Who knew I'd become a cop.  Mom always believed things like that were my fault. Didn't she know it always started with WHINING...from him? Life just wasn't fair.


Travis said...

Duuuuuuuuuuude. You and I can totally relate on being the oldest! One time I punched my younger brother in the nose for whining about something... SO MUCH TROUBLE!

Anyway darlin, you are in the number one seat today, and I am SO sorry for what happened last week. You also gained a new follower. ME. :)

The crazy Shaw Family said...

Ah, the panic spank, I know it well!
The last time that happened at our house, was when my two boys decided that it was way more fun to run away from home then clean thier rooms, and ended up almost 2 miles away from home. DH was out running errands, and I was searching high and low for them. Luckily, one of the moms from the teeball team saw these two yahoos running down the most dangerous part of our road, and pulled over. She couldn't remember who they were, and they were not forthcoming with any incriminating stuff, like names. So she called the Sheriff's department. Luckily, the dispatcher actually had her crap together that day, and recognized our boys from their description and location. She called my hubs on his cell phone and he went to the location and picked thier butts up.(This is were the panic spank occured) By the time he got home with them, I was roaming up and down our street in complete hysterics. it was not pretty. I saw him coming down the street, and got to the house as the two very chagrined little boys got out of the truck. It was all I could do to not kill them, or to grab them and hug them to death. I was sobbing so hard that I went into the house and collapsed on the couch. My boys were stareing at me like I was crazy. I seriously cried for almost an hour while DH made them stand there and watch me. "Do you see what you did to my wife? not cool!" He kept telling them. Finally the gravity of the situation hit them, and they lost it too! They both climbed on top of me crying and saying they were soooo sorry. (my son told me that they were running away to San Francisco, to live at Candlestick park, but that they were going to the local park first, because he figured they would need to catch a ride)
My oldest daughter just looked at them and said "Idiots, you never actually run away, just hide under your bed like I do!"

Dee said...

ROFL I love this! And it's way cool how you can still call him a turd. ;)

Slamdunk said...

Congrats on becoming an aunt.

With the modern aversion to corporal punishment, I was trying to guess how much your bad deed would be worth in time-out sentence--I am thinking 300 hours or so, eh?

Momma Fargo said...


Glad to have someone in my court...oldest was so trying. sigh. LOL. And thanks for following me. I am honored. It gets a little offensive in here...just a warning!

The crazy Shaw Family,

LOL. I know it would not be funny, but that was so funny. I ran away to the barn, once. No one missed me all day and I came home at dinner time. Duh. I like food. I can totally relate to your oldest daughter...LMAO! Love the hubs version of torturing the boys. :)


It's sisterly love! LOL.


At least..LMAO.

Coffeypot said...

I was kinda the oldest. My nearest older brother was 10 years older. And I had a 4 year younger brother whom I had to take everywhere with me. I would go down to Susie Cowart’s house and play Roy Rogers and Dale Evans and my brother would be Bullet (the German Sheppard.) He also got punched often for whining and crying. I yet to figure out why, when you hit someone to make them stop crying, they still cry more. Mom use to give me spankings to make me stop crying. Didn’t work. Amazing!

Daffy said...

Cattle Kate? Shoosh....I'd be your younger sibling any time and I totally would NOT whine. I promise.

Momma Fargo said...


Funny. Roy Rogers and Dale Evans...now that's dating yourself. I loved the reruns! Making your brother play Bullet...now that is something I would do. LMAO.


Oh, good. I'd hate to shove ya into the gun cabinet. LOL. Where were you when I needed a Shotgun Sally?

Mass Hole Mommy said...

I feel ya, sistah...I am also the oldest and my mom, also being the oldest, should have tried harder to understand what it was like with pain in the ass younger siblings. Damn it. I only have my sister a few black eyes, nothing hardcore like you, though.

Momma Fargo said...

Mass Hole Mommy,

Haha! I know. My mom was the oldest, too, but I don't think she ever gave her younger sisters hell.

Dame Nuisance said...

I was the oldest, too. Did my share of torturing the younger sibs, although they managed to get into plenty o' trouble on their own, without my evil genius help!

Visiting all of today's memoir contributers! Enjoyed the read, Momma F.

BigSis said...

"I was Big Sis. I was a bitch even back then."

You are my hero! I was such the bully to my sister, but I chalk that up as normal big sister behavior and I think she still tells her therapist what a meanie I was/am.

Ms. Anthropy said...

A younger sibling can definitely cramp your style. Funny, my parents were a lot more lenient with her. Guess I wore them out.

Momma Fargo said...

Dame Nuisance,

Thanks for stopping by! Yippee to being the oldest!


I wonder if my brother is in therapy...Teehee.

Ms. Anthropy,

Hoorah to being the oldest. We had to pave the way, I guess. LOL.

Ed said...

SWEET. It totally works now.

And you and my bratty sister would probably get along.

I feel for your poor brother. Not because of the Crohns, but because of who his sister is.

Momma Fargo said...


Go hug your sister. She made you the man you are. Then, slap her for me. You need some work. Love ya! LMAO!

TechnoBabe said...

You knew your own mind even back then. Maybe all the spanking helped mold you into a strong woman.

Momma Fargo said...


LOL. Or something. teehee

CI-Roller Dude said...

Yeah, most people don't understand that we had to become cops...because prison food sucked.

Tracie said...

My mom spanked me too but I don't remember ever doing anything wrong. Not till I hit puberty anyway. :)

Jessica said...

Basement trikes were the best.
Scaring brothers with Halloween masks and tying them to the posts and THEN riding trikes around them was even better.

Rock on.

Bethany said...

Nowadays, moms have to make sure the big bro/sis doesn't harm the little one (good luck w/ that, btw...), but there was once a time when my mom was off doing who-knows-what, letting my 5 y.o. sister push me around in a cheap plastic kids' grocery cart. I think I was like 9 mos old! WTF!

My kids haven't done anything too horrible to one another, though my oldest did once try to shove a toy tractor up his lil bro's nose (it didn't fit).

LMFAO at your story... good times! lol

Ann T. said...

Oh, Momma Fargo,

i was babysitting my little brother and decided to tattoo him by drawing all over him in ballpoint pen. He was screaming like murder.

I suddenly realized my parents would be home any minute. I had a lot of skin-cleaning to do. I used Comet and a scrub brush!

They came home Right when I started on his second arm. Yikes!!!! He has NEVER let me forget it.

Ann T.