Ode to My Brother

So what if he refuses to acknowledge my existence anymore. So what if we used to be best buddies and now the sight of me makes his pulse race and skin turn red with anger from head to toe. I remember the good times.

You know, those times when my big brother wrapped me tightly in a blanket and dragged me (feet first) from one end of Grandma and Grandpa's house, my poor little head narrowly missing every piece of hardwood furniture along the way. The times when I, third grade Lisa, got yelled at for saying "GOD DAMN IT!" when HE shit in the tub. The times when he punched me square in the face for turning down his radio. The times when he'd slug me for not getting up and changing the station on the TV. (Yes, I'm dating myself with that one!) The times when he pinned me down with his knees on my shoulders and spit loogies at my face, snatching them up at the very last millisecond.

Ah, those were the days!

Sometimes it takes one simple thing to bring it all rushing back to me.