I'm the Baby of the Famliy

I’m the youngest; of three boys; spaced about every 18 months.

I have reason to believe that at least early on, my brothers were none too pleased that I had come along.  They had a head start you see.  They could walk and talk before I could crawl.  And they used every day of that advantage.  Heck, they even tried to kill me in my crib on at least one occasion that I know of.

Yeah, yeah, to hear them tell it, they were just trying to be nice; stuffing that donut down my throat.  And I can understand if you believe them, they have been known to be pretty charming convincing, deceivers now and again; usually several times a day when they were growing up.

And if it hadn’t been for the ritualistic daily beatings over the following 14 to 15 years, you might be right.

But the beatings did commence.

 

And there were several years there where they played a game called “who can make Marty cry first”.  And though I can’t tell you who won most of those games, I can tell you who lost them all.

And then there were the times they tried to ditch me, or lose me in the woods, or drowned me at the pool.

Yep, it’s a pure miracle that I survived to shave my first whisker.

 

But those times are long gone now, and strange as it may seem, I miss ‘em some. 

And I suppose in the spirit of full disclosure, I can’t exactly claim I had no part in any of that.  It wouldn’t be fair to them to disavow any and all antagonizing, and challenging, and orneriness on my part. 

Now, you’re probably thinking “most siblings I know fought”.  But truth be told, most siblings I knew tustled, and wrestled, and pushed and shoved some....I never really knew any others that really fought.  But us three?  We waged unconditional warfare on a daily basis on each other.  The term "root hog or die" was pretty much a reasonable description of our altercations.

There was a decade or more in there were it was two on one.  And the two was a constantly shifting swirling set of temporary alliances that would confuse and confound any tribal leader in the underdeveloped parts of the world today.

And okay, so we didn’t have AK-47s, or rocket propelled grenades, or land mines (though our R&D projects along those lines is a subject for other remembrances), but that didn’t make what we did any less of an armed conflict.

 

My brothers refer to me, now, as their bigger baby brother, and have for some decades. 

Cause in my prime I topped out over 6 foot.  And over 200 pretty solid pounds.

And now and again, while growing through those turbulent years, nature handed me a growth spurt. 

If you look at my hands these days, you will readily see, that when nature offered up, I readily took the chance.

And the retribution beatings began.

When I tell people this tale, they inevitably express their dismay that I have such a poor relationship with my brothers.  But that surely isn't the way of it.  

We are great friends.  Don’t get together as much as we’d like separated by all the miles between, but we do.  And when we do the conversations are full of fun, and good natured storytelling, and joy, and love and respect.

 Best I can figure is, that's cause we beat everything else out years ago.

-        © Marty K Vandermolen 2013 All rights Reserved