When I was in fourth grade, my little brother was born. It always seemed that I got in trouble with him. He'd blame me for just about everything ... and sure, most of the time, it was my fault. However, not all the time. I remember this one time vividly.
My cousins Drew and Trish and I were outside in the backyard, along with my little brother. We all decided to go inside. Now, here's where you have to pay attention. I'm the first one in the line of kids going inside ... repeat, the FIRST ONE. I was followed by Drew, then Trish, and then Kurt.
My mom was in the kitchen along with my aunt (Drew and Trish's mom). Now again, I was FIRST in line! I walked right by my mom and aunt ... impossible to miss. Drew and Trish went in the house, and then my brother came up the rear. He apparently slipped on the step, fell down, and began to cry. My mom went to see what was wrong, and immediately, my brother blamed me for his fall.
Now, any sane person could've figured out that it was impossible for me to cause this fall. However, my mom, at the time suffering from apparently severe insanity, took my brother's side and began yelling at me. Thankfully, my aunt was there to provide reasoning to my bat-s*it crazy mother. So, luckily that time I avoided trouble.
I've got two words for ya - Sar-casm. If you aren't hip with that, you probably should just click to the next blog. I blog about my daily life, current hot topics, stupid conversations, or just about anything that is on my mind.