(Seriously, please don't call Child Protective!)
[Originally posted December 7, 2007]
Every year, when we finally get a good snow (as we did recently--8 inches!), Kendall is the first (enthusiastically joined by my husband) to say, “Let’s go play outside!!!!” While I love the look of snow and taking photos of snow fights and of our snowmen, I just don’t care to put snow pants on and actually roll in it. I’m pretty sure my brothers ruined the love of snow-play for me...
I am number seven of nine kids. Four boys preceded me, all within the span of seven years. As you can imagine, I’ve had my share of noogies at the hands of my brothers. I know what it’s like to have a boy sitting on my stomach, knees planted on my shoulders as he hangs a loogie (yes, it's actually in the dictionary!) over my face. And of course, before remote controls, I was the brother-appointed “channel changer,” for at least one tyrant. Unfortunately, while I do love my brothers, I don’t remember fond childhood memories of them, least of all where snow is concerned.
I remember one snow moment in particular. We were all outside, playing “Tackle the Bum,” which involved a football being tossed up. Whoever caught the ball then rushed to a designated goal, but not without the rest of the players doing their best to tackle him/her before he/she could get there. It's a violent game, as I recall; perfect for children full of suppressed anger. I don’t know why I was playing; I’m sure I hated this game, given that I was younger, weaker, and most likely to be pummeled. Maybe I liked snow at one point? What happened next offers a potential clue to my current snow aversion.
I have a distinct lightening-flash memory of waking up (alone) in the front yard, flat on my snow-suited back. That’s all I recall; waking up, seeing the sky, and wondering why I was alone.
I like to think that my brothers had rushed into the house to get help, call an ambulance, or at least get an icepack, but if that was so, why wasn’t anyone left behind to tend to me? I had obviously passed out; surely they wouldn’t have just left me there!? Why is this snapshot of a memory stuck in my mind?
When I ask my brothers today, they just chuckle and claim ignorance (which is easier for some than others, LOL and JK!). Of course, in the well of torturous behaviors that they committed, this one would have been only a drop. I think it more likely that I, as “the bum,” had been tackled and left for dead. I like to think there would have been hell to pay for letting me get hurt like that; maybe each one was afraid of being blamed and rushed off to find a hiding place? Regardless, I suspect this is one reason that snow and I are not best friends. Thankfully, Kendall and snow are BFFs forever (especially if my husband has anything to say about it!)
P.S. Reasons I love Mr. 4444:
1) He is an amazing dad to our kids. Simply amazing.
2) He has never, ever pushed me in the snow or rubbed my face in it.
3) He taught me how to downhill ski on our first date (gently, patiently, lovingly).
4) He has never, ever given me a noogie or hung a loogie over me.
I have reciprocated by never tickling his feet. (Well, almost never.)
I am number seven of nine kids. Four boys preceded me, all within the span of seven years. As you can imagine, I’ve had my share of noogies at the hands of my brothers. I know what it’s like to have a boy sitting on my stomach, knees planted on my shoulders as he hangs a loogie (yes, it's actually in the dictionary!) over my face. And of course, before remote controls, I was the brother-appointed “channel changer,” for at least one tyrant. Unfortunately, while I do love my brothers, I don’t remember fond childhood memories of them, least of all where snow is concerned.
I remember one snow moment in particular. We were all outside, playing “Tackle the Bum,” which involved a football being tossed up. Whoever caught the ball then rushed to a designated goal, but not without the rest of the players doing their best to tackle him/her before he/she could get there. It's a violent game, as I recall; perfect for children full of suppressed anger. I don’t know why I was playing; I’m sure I hated this game, given that I was younger, weaker, and most likely to be pummeled. Maybe I liked snow at one point? What happened next offers a potential clue to my current snow aversion.
I have a distinct lightening-flash memory of waking up (alone) in the front yard, flat on my snow-suited back. That’s all I recall; waking up, seeing the sky, and wondering why I was alone.
I like to think that my brothers had rushed into the house to get help, call an ambulance, or at least get an icepack, but if that was so, why wasn’t anyone left behind to tend to me? I had obviously passed out; surely they wouldn’t have just left me there!? Why is this snapshot of a memory stuck in my mind?
When I ask my brothers today, they just chuckle and claim ignorance (which is easier for some than others, LOL and JK!). Of course, in the well of torturous behaviors that they committed, this one would have been only a drop. I think it more likely that I, as “the bum,” had been tackled and left for dead. I like to think there would have been hell to pay for letting me get hurt like that; maybe each one was afraid of being blamed and rushed off to find a hiding place? Regardless, I suspect this is one reason that snow and I are not best friends. Thankfully, Kendall and snow are BFFs forever (especially if my husband has anything to say about it!)
P.S. Reasons I love Mr. 4444:
1) He is an amazing dad to our kids. Simply amazing.
2) He has never, ever pushed me in the snow or rubbed my face in it.
3) He taught me how to downhill ski on our first date (gently, patiently, lovingly).
4) He has never, ever given me a noogie or hung a loogie over me.
I have reciprocated by never tickling his feet. (Well, almost never.)
I can't believe they left you for dead! I hope you have gotten back at them. Maybe you could buy their children loud, annoying, musical instruments?
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