Well, my Dad is back by popular demand! If you missed his guest post last week, I encourage you to go back and read it, here. This week, he’s sharing the other big story from his childhood that has kept us in hysterics since we can remember. I hope you enjoy it! (Aw, actually, I *know* you will enjoy it.)
ONCE UPON A ‘TINE’
(Or, ‘Tine’ heals all wounds…’ almost!)
As I continue my journey down memory lane, (which I don’t normally like to do, unless it’s about tormenting my older sister) another pleasant story about HER and me comes to mind and never fails to make me smile.
This one happened a few years before the miracle appearance of the ‘Best Tuna Fish Sandwich Ever’. This time, if memory serves me right, I was about 11 years old and good old Sis was almost 14.
As you might expect after reading Melisa’s blogs about her wonderful family life and the values she and her fantastic hubby have instilled in my grandsons, she must have learned those good family values from someone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t ME! All of the goodness both daughters learned growing up was taught to them by my bride of 45 years, the poor woman! I always took pride in teaching them by example, of how to be independent individuals and how NOT to do things! Sorry, I digress; however, that’s a point I wanted to make before the ‘Tine’ thingy is fully explained.
Going way back when Sis and I were growing up, we had many chores to do in the house and there were never any excuses accepted by our Mom, or for that matter, our Dad. Some of the chores were doing the laundry, (Mom was working at the time), making beds, dusting, and the worst of all, washing and drying the dishes after dinner. To be fair to us, Mom allowed Sis and I to split and alternate the chores that were expected of us, and naturally we always thought the other was ‘getting away with murder’. Sis felt that way because I was the youngest (and she was jealous of my youth and debonair behavior), and I, of course, was very right in my thinking that she always ‘got away with murder’ for two reasons. One was, she had more experience in being sneaky, as she was older! The other reason was because she was so irritating and no matter what she did in the house, it was never enough for me!
Naturally, as you might expect, there always were arguments when we had our chores to do and to be very honest here, Sis usually won them as she always ran to Mom and/or Dad to rat on me for saying ugly things to her and be pitied. (Dad was a pushover but Mom was the tough one for me to weasel out of things!) Well, after so many blows to my young developing ego by her constant whining and ratting on me, thereby getting her way more often than not, I sort of developed my good goal setting skills, which I still have to this day. Actually, it was easy, as I only had one true goal. That was to GET EVEN WITH MS. SMUG SISTER BY ANY WAY POSSIBLE! Yes, I was young but a deadly thinker when it came to retribution. I felt that if I couldn’t outsmart her, I certainly could make her pay for her sneakiness and air of superiority directed mainly at me by just plain making her miserable, either by embarrassment or mental anguish. As I recall, I never really physically hurt her, EXCEPT for one time. What a pleasant thought!
It was after dinner one night and we had the dirty dishes to wash and dry. (No mechanical dishwashers in those days!) We slaves, ahem, I mean kids, had to do them as Mom and Dad worked all day, etc. Anyway, I just KNEW it was my turn to DRY the dishes after Sis WASHED them. Naturally, she decided that the reverse was correct and began to whine, moan, complain, more than usual and as usual, made me ‘pissy’ (again!). This time however, I had a huge temper tantrum and completely ‘lost it’! (I mean I was ONLY 11 years old! Work with me here!)
Mom and Dad left the dinner table and the kitchen, to do whatever, and I was still eating, my third helping of Mom’s very greasy but delicious beef brisket. (See why I’m so fat now? It was Mom’s fault!). Anyway, we always ate our meals in our small apartment kitchen, and the kitchen table was very close to the sink. Sis had her back to me washing the dishes and was really whining and carrying on much more than normal, yelling repeatedly that it was MY turn to wash and hers to dry.
Well, I had ENOUGH! As I was sitting, still feeding my fat but adorable 11-year-old face, my back was facing her back and we were very close to each other. As you might expect, I was taking my time eating for two reasons, yes, the brisket was awesome, however, the MAIN reason was to aggravate you know who…again! Ha ha ha!
This time, it was different, as she was REALLY into getting me into my super ‘pissiness’ mode and after a few minutes, I just snapped. Without thinking, I simply grasped my fork, and half turned and very gently stabbed her in her right buttock! Gawd, it felt so gooood! But I was a compassionate good kid brother, even at 11 years old. I really was! Even in my more than normal ‘pissiness’ mode, I controlled my emotions enough to only sink the fork tines into her about an inch or so! Yes, I know, I could have sunk them all the way in but I did have a good heart. I really did! As you might expect, her complaining abruptly stopped and the most ferocious, blood curdling screams came out of her! Yes, you’re right! It was music to my ears! Now I had musical entertainment while continuing to eat like the pig that I was! Bliss is wonderful! As she continued to overreact to what happened, she ran out of the kitchen, with the fork tines STILL embedded in her buttock.
As I watched this surreal event happening, I was in awe! I found a way to stop her whining! A bit extreme you ask? In retrospect, yes, it was, but for a few brief moments, I knew I made history and a memory that ‘tine’ will never erase!
The last view I saw of her was her buttock, with the fork still stuck in it, and it was actually wavering back and forth as she ran.
Oh yes, she RAN, while screaming and crying, (big baby!), to Mom and Dad. I was so immersed in my overall joy and bliss, and still eating I might add, I never thought a thing about it, that is until I felt the presence of not one, but TWO beings approaching me as I ate.
Yes, you guessed it, Mom and Dad pounced on me and I was removed from my chair, in a rather rough way and well, you can imagine the rest. Even after what happened to MY buttock(s) compliments of Dad, with assistance from Mom, I too felt tush pain! But did I scream? NO! Did I cry? NO! What I did do was weigh the trade-off. A spanking and a few minutes of yelling at me, asking if I was crazy, compared to the fantastical, wonderful, everlasting memory I made for me! The bonus was/is, my Sis was privileged to receive an inkless tattoo of 4 fork tine holes in her buttock that is still there today! Gawd, I was so happy! Later that night I kept asking her if I could see her bandaged wound but I never could figure out why she refused. She did swear that she’d get even with me some day. I asked her if she meant, in ‘TINE’? Ha ha ha ha.
My life growing up was sure good! I had some great ‘TINES’.
Thanks again for doing this Dad! I love you! Anytime you want to guest post, you’re welcome to send me something.
Apologies to the rest of you: you’re all stuck with me again on the next post! Happy Friday!