Oh Brother...Where Fart Thou?

So I was thinking today about how I proclaim to not be a girly-girl. And I think a lot of it has come about because growing up with a brother made me quite comfortable with things like burps, poop, farts, spit, and making noises with your arm pit.

Then I began thinking about the pieces of my life I would have missed had I not had a brother.

• Like the time when I was so little that I couldn't even reach the faucet so I asked him for a drink of water. And he thought it would be funny to put Tabasco in the water. And then laughing uncontrollably when my childlike solution to getting the hot feeling out of my mouth was to drink more.
• Like the time he and cousin S took me to my grandfather's carpentry shop and put my hand in the vise and closed it just until I couldn't escape and told me they'd close it all the way if I tattled (about whatever it was they had done).
• Like similar time he and cousin S put me in that giant treasure chest looking thingy, closed the lid and told me they'd lock it if I tattled (about whatever it was they had done).
• Like they time he thought it would be a great idea if I sat on his lap controlling the gas on the go cart while he controlled the steering and we promptly crashed it straight into the side of my grandfather's garage.
• Like they time we were sitting in the willow tree and I asked him what that phrase in "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" meant - "You don't spit into the wind" and he told me to try it and I did.
• Like the time he convinced me it would be a GREAT Christmas gift for Mom and Dad to take all those little sample bottles of men's AND women's fragrance (Minie worked the cosmetics counter so we had lots) and dump them all in our plastic duck and shake them all together and painstakingly pour the concoction back into the bottles. And how Christmas morning everyone but me thought it was a terrific joke.
• Like the time he decided to run out into the front yard to tell his version of the story to Mom BEFORE I could tell mine and I followed and stuck my hand out to catch the front storm door as he flew out. And then standing there with my arm stuck through the glass. Glad to report no injury. But I got in trouble for breaking the door.
• Like the time I was DYING for a Barry Manilow album for Christmas and he wrapped up my Dad's Herb Alpert and the Tiajuana Brass album and lovingly presented to me on Christmas morning.
• Like the time Mom & Dad's friend, B, was spending the night and sleeping in my brother's room. And he peed in a cup (a yellow cup of course...making it more difficult to detect the pee) and left it on the sink in his bathroom to see if B would injest it or not. I know...This one is MOST horrific. And I don't remember the outcome. I think I blocked it.

Ahhh...The fond memories. So I look back and consider what would I have had if I didn't have a brother? And decide - A chance at sanity...That's what!!