Or, at least he should.  My brother was born just shy of my 2nd birthday.  Apparently he had some health issues at birth.  From that moment on he had the sympathy vote.  Oh, and he was the only boy.  ( think I mentioned that before).  By memory I can’t recall when I started torturing picking on my brother.  However, there seems to be some photo documentation.  See below.

Legend has it that he is crying and screaming because I reached over and pinched his hand.  It appears I could be trying to make my getaway when the photographer snapped the picture.  He was 2 and I was 4.  Just so you know…I think he could have been crying because of that hideous outfit.  Geez.

Then there was that time I almost killed him.  Ya see, we had a guy over installing a brand new dishwasher.  I hope my mom didn’t pay him much because when he left he laid down a handful of “extra parts” on the kitchen table.  While my mom was on the phone, calling everyone in town to brag about her new appliance, I figured I would entertain myself by forcing my brother to sniff pepper off the table.  Shake.  Shake.  Shake.  Grab back of brother’s head.  Force down toward table surface.  Demand him to sniff.  Evil grin.  Repeat.  Evil grin.  So, it wasn’t long before I realized he had SUCKED A WASHER UP HIS NOSE!  (Remember the extra dishwasher parts?)  He raised his head and you could barely see the doughnut-shaped washer.  That little turd starting crying-BIG TIME!  My mom was still on the phone not paying attention to us at all.  I’m trying to get by brother to shut up.  Snot dripping everywhere.  Then he gets the snubs.  Anyone know what that is?  For all I know it could be a made-up word.  Basically he started sniffing really hard.  OMG.  You could see the washer move further up his nose, almost to the corner of his eye.  Uh, oh.  I’m holding my hand over his mouth, trying to get him to shut up. Maybe trying to suffocate him?  I think I had already received a spanking earlier in the day.  The second one would be 10 times harder.  Trust me!  He let out a bloodcurdling scream.  Oh, gosh.  I could here our mom coming down the hall.  “What the hell are you doing to him?  Didn’t I tell you to leave him alone.  I’m going to beat your…What the…”  Yep.  She saw it.  Ummm…

She tenderly grabbed his arm, grabbed me by my hair and threw us in the car.  Of course, I still had to ride in the back!  He’s screaming (big baby), she’s screaming (loud mouth) and I’m just shrugging my shoulders.  So mom’s asking me what happened, he’s still screaming, and I said “well, I’m not for sure, but I think he was sniffing pepper off the table and accidentally sucked up some of the leftover dishwasher parts.”  She yelled said “you wait ’til I get you home, girly.  You’re going to get it!”  Gosh. She had no proof it was me.  Besides, he’s screaming and crying so loud he couldn’t tell her.  I get blamed for everything!  Although in this case, I really did it.

Enter ER.  Tons of people.  Mom jumps in front of the line.  Did I mention she’s really bossy.  She demanded that he be seen immediately.  The nurse is giving her the necessary paperwork and so mom tells me to “watch your brother.”  Uh, this was my fault.  She already told me to never go near him again.  Now I’m suppose to watch him?  Geez-make up your mind, woman.

I tried to relax him by explaining how I thought they would remove the washer.  I calmly told him they would probably stick a wire coat hanger up his nose, dig around and fish it out.  Maybe not the best thing to say because he hit the floor SCREAMING.  Here come the snubs again.  Before my mom could turn around, he must have sucked snot so hard, he got a whiff of some residual ground pepper.  He sneezed and that washer flew across the room.  Amazingly he stopped crying, probably glad the doctor would not be sticking a coat hanger up his nose.  We left without seeing the doctor.  I STILL had to sit in the backseat.  Ugghh.  And yes, I got a spanking.

Then there was that one time we were making wishes by blowing fallen eyelashes into the wind.  Did anyone else do that?  He didn’t have any loose ones so I got the manicure scissors and trimmed them off.  All of them.  Well, just the right eye.  He made tons of wishes that day.  I bet one of them was for his eyelashes to grow back.  And yes, I got a spanking.

Oh, there was also the time I bought him a can of dogfood. I got candy, he got Alpo.  And yes, I got a spanking.

I was not the only one in the family to torture him.  Cut me a little slack.  Our cousin Kelly came over for sleepovers every other weekend.  The two of us were trouble-T-R-O-U-B-L-E!  He hated when she came over.  She was almost as bad as me but he only had to deal with her about 4 days a month.  Kelly loved to sing.  For some reason she thought she was an opera singer.  Regardless of the song- country, pop, R&B, rap…she sang it in opera.  No kidding.  She sang so loud.  Purposely, she would get close to my brother and sing in his ear.  At the same time, I would laugh, dance circles around him and occasionally jab him in the side.  It was hysterical.  Really.  Sometimes he would hide from us.  All he wanted to do was transform his Optimus Prime or play with his Godzilla toy.  We would hunt him down, tease him, and sing funny songs.  He hated that too.

John was such a cry-baby.  I’m not sure why, but he hated the Charmkins commercial.  Charmkins were silly little plastic animal charms (scented, I think) that came with a piece of plastic jewelry.  The commercials were annoying, but Kelly was WORSE.  She would sing the Charmkins theme song (in opera, of course).  Charmkins, Charmkins, they love hangin’ around… Oh, my!  He cried so hard.  We laughed.  No spanking that time.  Poor guy.

I can’t be certain, but I think he once tried to take an overdose of pills.  Overdose on Flinstones vitamins. My mom parked the car in our granny’s driveway.  We had stopped by to pick up Kelly for the weekend. It must have been too much for him to bare (or is it bear?). He chewed up the whole bottle.  My mom was frantic.  No visit to the ER, though.  Just a few calls to Poison Control.  I think I got a spanking for that too.  What?  That was not my fault!  Maybe the spanking was for laughing.  I’m not sure.

My goodness.  I could go on for hours.  He lived after the overdose so I had another 10 or 15 years to torment him.  And I did.

I’m not sure if my brother reads my blog but I know my sister does.  I’m sure she will pick up the phone, call him and tell him “Shannon’s talking about you…”.  So John, if you are reading this-I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for torturing, terrorizing and tormenting you.  I hope you were not so traumatized that you needed years of therapy.  I’m also thankful you did not kill me in my sleep.  I bet you thought of it a few times.  Don’t lie. Admit it.

I will not, however, apologize for Kelly.  She is probably reading this blog too.  So Kelly, it’s up to you. It’s time to apologize. Hey, maybe you could call and sing apologize in opera.

Just for the record, my brother and I (sister, too) get along now.  He may still hate me, but if so, he’s a good actor.

So there ya go.  This is probably why my brother must hate me.