The Revenge Of A Former POG Owner
A story about sisters.
Siblings fight. It's inevitable. You ate the last cookie, you broke my favourite toy, you told mom, the variations are endless. Here is a story dear to my family and most family
My sister and I were about 5 and 8. (She's older). We had just moved from an apartment to a townhouse (in later years we move to a house, not yet though pay attention!) In this new townhouse, our playroom was in our basement. The only time we were upstairs is when we were eating or in trouble ( or doing homework but… how important..😉) We spent endless hours playing barbies, POGs, (yes I'm that old don't rub it in), and, you guessed it, fighting.
We fought about anything, from whos Barbie got to wear which shoes to why you took off every barbies outfit… There were screams, there were tears, and, yep, you guessed it, there was Mom. Oh, how frightful is the image of my mother at the top of the stairs, pointing at us, whisper yelling "Come Here, NOW!" Ugh. *Shudders*
One particular day, my sister and I were practicing for our Gymnastics lesson. I was always really good at the balance beam, and didn't mind showing off on the couch by walking across the top at the back. It was a normal, old, well loved couch, tan with juice and crumb decorations. Oh, the memories.
On this said day, my sister had an idea. I had confided in her that I wasn't able to swing on the high bar like all the other kids. So, my sister pushed the couch (with my help, of course,) to just beneath the water pipe that was exposed in the ceiling. She instructed me to hang on to it, just like at Gymnastics on the high bar. She then pushed the couch away, and there I swung, on the water pipe, about 4 feet off the ground. My sister decided at this point she needed to go 'use the bathroom'. Scared but not really having an option until she came back, I held with all my might.
Unfortunately for me, I did not predict the level of revenge my sister had in store for me (might have ripped the sticker off her favourite POG, not sure.) To my utter dismay, who would happen to appear? That's right! None other than…. (Drumroll) My Mom! The woman who would cook your favourite meal and take away your best Barbie, the one who loved all your artwork and made you clean up too, my mom.
I really want you to envision this. Imagine being five, getting duped by your sister, knowing you are in a supreme level of doo-doo, and not wanting to ask for help but hoping she will and Soon, because your arms are going to give out and you'd rather not die cracking your head open (again) on a concrete floor. To say the least, it was my turn to need the toilet.
My mom, I just want to state, was never the one to yell. Rather more terrifyingly, she liked to teach you whilst you were being disciplined, and in such fashion she liked to question you. Here's how it went.
Me : *scared smile* "Um… Hi Mom!".
My mom: Hi Jaclyn!*Pauses for what seems like an eternity* ehm… Are you Supposed to be on the water pipe? *Squinting her eyes as only a mother can do*
Me : *laughs nervously* Uh no. (Moms are so silly sometimes! Funny too!
My mom: Right. *Long pause*Are you supposed to climb on the couch?
Me: *looks around frantically* No…
My mom: Right. So… *pauses* If you aren't supposed to use the couch for gymnastics, and you are definitely not supposed to be hanging on the water pipe, you probably shouldn't be then, am I correct?
My mom: Well? I'm waiting, I don't have all day!
Me: No I shouldn't be on the water pipe.
At this point my arms are so sore, I almost don't mind letting go.
My mom: Do you have anything to say for yourself?
Me: I'm sorry I hung on the water pipe. Jenny said…
My mom: *interrupts* I don't recall asking you about Jenny! We're talking about you! I want you to go directly to your room. We will talk about this later. (Spoiler alert: I wind up getting grounded... Apparantly the water pipe can burst if you subject it to added weight, and you can die cracking your head on concrete. This is because of the gravitational pull that comes from the core of the earth! I didn't question any further, it seemed pretty concise.)
Sigh. I guess that's what you get for trying to be an Olympic gymnast with a big sister around. Poop.