Friday, December 30, 2005

before i forget

i have a favorite-ish christmas moment. my mother wants to go on a walk. i've gone to bed early because i have a stomachache. my mother leaves to go on a walk; my two younger sisters go with her. one minute later, the sisters are back in my room, "joy, just kidding. this is not an optional walk. we ALL have to go on this walk."
"what? that's crazy."
"no, seriously. get up."
"crazy woman," i think. but there is no choice, so i roll myself out of bed, put on a sweater and stumble outside, where my brother is also waiting, and we proceed to ... to walk. our mother walks in front, and we, her offspring, stream behind her.
my siblings, however, are well-schooled in the art of owning, yes--owning, such authoritarian scenarios. we walk one block. then, my youngest sister, who is weirdly strong, suddenly turns to me and heaves me onto her back, piggy-back style. i am still unsure as to how i got there. she then runs down the sidewalk, with me still on her back. as we are racing down the street, we are overtaken by a large object, which turns out to be my younger brother, who is also weirdly strong, with my other sister on his back.
after awhile, the two weirdly strong kids drop those of normal/less-than-normal strength onto the ground and sort of do victory dance before starting a speed-walking race, back and forth between the walking humans and whatever large object (car, tree, house) is convenient. and then the sister-of-normal-strength tells me of the time she saw my brother throw someone over his shoulder and run down the street (something like that). and my brother (exactly like this) to prove his ability, tosses the sister-of-the-weirdly-strong over his right shoulder and shows us how he can run two blocks down the street and back, without slacking in his pace.
i, the sister of less-than-normal-strength, was rather overcome with awe.
and so we progress through the neighborhood, passing over-sized snow globes and the texas-shaped christmas ornamentation. our mother is now behind us, observing. and we are doubled over with hysteria.
i think i will end here.
the end.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I like how none of that surprises me in the least.

11:33 AM  

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