(I do a little freelance design to bring in extra cash at home, and every year, my sister asks me to design birthday invitations for her child.)
Sister: “You know what? This is so great. Who else can say they get custom birthday invitations every year?!”
Me: “Paying customers?”
Sister: “Touché.”
(At my primary school, there is a disciplinary system where students receive a verbal warning, then two yellow cards, then a red card. My little brother is quite badly behaved, and is inseparable from his two best friends. This is when he is six or seven years old.)
Little Brother: *running to Mum at pickup* “Guess what?! [Best Friend #1] and [Best Friend #2] both got straight red cards today!”
Mum: “Really? Must have been a terrible thing they did.”
Little Brother: “Yeah! They brought in a big pack of matches and set a fire in the playground!”
Mum: “And where were you during all this?”
Little Brother: “Oh, I was off collecting firewood.”
Did you find this story in our Best Friends Roundup?
(I’m a preteen in this story. My friend and I are sitting in the basement chatting when my four-year-old brother comes tearing through at top speed.)
Me: “Hey, [Brother]. Where are you going so fast?”
Brother: “I’m getting a beer for Mommy! She needs it right away!”
(My friend stares at me, wide-eyed.)
Me: “She’s making dinner, I swear.”
Friend: “Okay, if you say so.”
(Fortunately, my friend stuck around for dinner, and greatly enjoyed my mom’s signature beer-braised chicken with barley and vegetables!)
(Thirteen family members live at my house, and it is common to have visitors many of us don’t know. There is an outside gate, and visitors have to use the intercom to be let in the yard. Whoever opens the door may not be the person who answered the intercom. I open the door to see a girl in her late teens.)
Girl: “Hi!”
Me: “Hi, nice to meet you. Come on in.”
Girl: “Okay. Do I sit down?”
Me: “Sure. Have a seat.”
(This is a common scenario for the person opening the door if someone else answered the intercom. Ten minutes later…)
Cousin: “Hey, there’s a girl on the couch downstairs!”
Aunt: “What do you mean?”
Me: “Wait. The girl I opened the door for?”
(It is.)
Me: “Hi. Are you still waiting?”
Girl: “Yes. Where is [Brother]?”
Me: “Let me get him.”
(I knock on my brother’s door and find it locked.)
Me: “Hey. Some girl is waiting for you.”
Brother: *no reply*
Me: “Hello!”
(This is before cell-phones, and he doesn’t have a room phone, so I intercom the living room phone, which is on a separate system.)
Me: “Hey. [Brother]’s door is locked and he’s not answering. Who’s the visitor?”
Aunt: “[Brother]’s girlfriend. He himself let her in the gate.”
Me: *bangs on door* “Hey! What’s going on? That’s your girlfriend downstairs!”
Grandpa: “Huh?”
Me: “Do you have the key? Something isn’t right.”
Grandpa: “Yeah, hang on.”
(My aunt, cousin, and the girlfriend all come up.)
Girl: *bangs on door* “Hey, you s***! I’m here!”
(My grandpa gets the key and opens the door to find… an empty room. Also, an opened window.)
Grandpa: “Where is that boy?!”
(We start organizing a search of all the rooms, all the while apologising to his girlfriend, who is very confused and starting to get pissed. Then, my grandpa looks out the window. We’re on the second floor.)
Grandpa: “[Brother]! He’s lying on the flower bed!”
Us: “What?!”
Girl: “What in the world?”
Grandpa: “He must have gone out the window and fell! Call an ambulance.”
(We scrambled to him and noticed he hadn’t cracked his head or anything; he just had some scratches. He woke up after we slapped him a few times. What really happened? His girlfriend’s parents are locksmiths, and she wants to be one, too. My brother wanted to impress her by locking his door, and then picking it when she came up. Their date, however, was at the hospital getting his head checked. It was fine, thankfully.)
(My younger sister and brother are due to get their polio vaccinations. Despite being two years younger than her, my brother is several inches taller and 40 pounds heavier than our sister. But, as she’s older, she gets to go first.)
Mom: “She has a fear of shots, just to warn you.”
Nurse: “Oh, that’s no problem. I know nobody likes shots.” *turns to my sister* “Now, I’m just going to clean the skin on your leg for the shot.”
Sister: “It’s cold!”
Nurse: “Yes, it is. But it will warm up again in a minute. Now, you’re just going to feel a pinch…”
(My sister sees the needle and flips out, screaming, crying, and flailing. She even manages to kick the nurse in the face before my mom is able to hold her down.)
Nurse: *finally gets the shot in* “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know that hurt. I promise, if you relax, shots don’t hurt so much. Would you like a sucker?”
(My sister won’t stop crying; she’s in full panic mode.)
Me: “Mom, if you want, I can take [Brother] to another room and help him get his shot.”
Mom: *still trying to control my sister* “Please, do.”
(I gather up my hefty little brother and follow the nurse to the exam room next door.)
Nurse: “Go ahead and put him on the table, please.”
Me: “Sure thing. Here you go, buddy! You doing okay?”
Brother: “Yeah.” *with the implication of “why shouldn’t I be?”*
(The nurse looks him over, and then leaves without a word. A few minutes later, she comes back in with not one, but three orderlies, all strong-looking men, to hold my brother down. One orderly stands behind him and holds his arms around my brother’s arms and torso, while the other two each secure a leg.)
Me: “He’s not going to go crazy like [Sister] did. He’s our gentle giant, I swear.”
(The nurse ignores me, cleans his leg, and then counts to three for his shot.)
Brother: *frowns* “Ow.”
Nurse: *stunned* “Ow?”
Brother: “That hurt. Can I have a sucker, now?”
(He didn’t so much as twitch, and he accepted his treat with a smile. [Sister] was still crying a river, and didn’t stop until we were halfway home.)
