Thursday, April 19, 2012

The Sandwich Kid, Part IV

Procastination, reluctance, dread, guilt -- all of these have had a hand in my getting back to my installments on being a middle child.  You might remember reading Parts 1, 2 and 3.

Each of the reasons I've listed are due in part to the fact that as the middle child between two brothers, one 14 years older and the other eight years younger, sooner or later you must know that I had to find ways to get even with them.  You know you were expecting this, right?

My brother Eugene (Bubba) (R) and his
best friend, Clyde (Buzz)
I'll start with things occurring related to my older brother.  I must have been about four years old at the time.  I knew his room was off limits.  He was about 18 and graduating high school soon.  In this photo, he's the good looking one on the right.

One afternoon I became curious as to why I wasn't supposed to be in his room.

Mama was busy and I could hear her in the kitchen.  So I tiptoed in and began to look around.  Nothing was of great interest to a four year old.  Until I spied bright colors on the corner of what looked like a piece of paper peeking out from under his bed.

And there it was!  Shiny and glossy.  Beautiful pictures, beautiful ladies!  I had to share them with Mama.  I grabbed as many as my hands would hold and ran to the kitchen.

"Mama, mama!  Look what I found under Bubba's bed!  Magazines with pretty ladies all over the pages.  They're all so beautiful."

Photo credit
Mama wheeled around and took one look at what I was holding.  Imagine her horror when she saw the masthead on the stack of magazines I was sharing with her.

I use this simple image to the right to maintain at least a modicum of tastefulness here.  :)

Well, the worst wasn't over.  Of course, Mama just had to confront Gene when he came home from school that afternoon.

And the worst was when he stopped me in the hallway and to down close to my face.

"If you ever snoop around in my room again or show mama something you've found because you can't stop snooping, I'll kill you!"

Well, you could say he had my attention at this point.  I refused to let him see me cry so I backed across the hall and pushed my way into my room and quietly closed the door.

Already I believed firmly that God's words were to be honored:

And that's about it, friends. Be cheerful. Keep things in good repair.
Keep your spirits up. Think in harmony. Be agreeable. Do all that,
and the God of love and peace will be with you for sure. 

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