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simpler times… deep dark secrets….

Today I am going to borrow a story from my brother… But I was involved in it, so it’s kinda my story too. I am 25 years old, and my brother is 27. So as we were growing up we were quite close. I am going to share with you his most distressing time as a child. He still talks about it til this day. If the subject is brought up, he vehemently defends his actions.

You see my brother, dear boy, is a rather passionate young man. Some might even call him stubborn. To the point that he would rather argue till he is blue in the face about something he know’s is not truth than have to admit that he is wrong. In the younger years, this was quite the challenge when it came to having a conversation with him. Now it’s become more of a joke.

To my recollection he was about 8 at the time of this story and I was about 6. My brother and I were playing alongside the house. He was climbing a tree, and I was standing by wishing I could climb the tree (I am too clumsy and too uncoordinated, all that for another post). Said tree was about 7 ft tall, and quite thin…

I remember quite clearly, as I watched him climb. We were having quite the discussion as he sat perched in the tree. No doubt he was sharing with me all that could be seen from such heights! There is much more to see from such heights you see! We weren’t allowed to play in the street with the other kids, so all we could see from inside the fence boundary was a bonus!

I was watching and enjoying his regale of the sights to behold, and shortly thereafter I watched him fall from the tree. Head. First. He landed on his forehead. Some people have thicker skulls than others, and I’m sure he thanked his lucky stars that day that his skull didn’t crack on the way down to earth. He landed on our gravel driveway, and made away with a few stitches and lots of blood.

But you see, the story doesn’t end here. Later on when the headache subsided our parents asked us what had happened. I say to this day he fell because the tree was too spindly at the top to hold his weight. But my brother not one to back away from an argument quite seriously suggests that the reason he fell, was my. fault.

You see he seems to think I told him he couldn’t fly… So my brother, God bless him, felt the need to prove to me that he could fly. Therefore leapt from the tree head first. In our family we still get some joy from this story as my brother still likes to tell us it is my fault.

In the end, either way, I know I am right. Even IF that is the case that I told him he couldn’t fly, it turns out I was right.. He can’t fly… 🙂

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