From the mind of Mary Purdy: A collection of true personal essays, creative outbursts, humorous monologues and other sundry offerings that necessitated translating ideas and whims from the brain onto the keyboard.
fighting as usual. About what is hard to say.
What do siblings actually fight about?
It could be something as silly as one of us taking the last Fig Newton
or borrowing an item from the other’s room and not returning it. Or
perhaps it is that it’s easy for my big brother to detest me just for being his
little sister, pig tails, red leotard, running around the house, torturing him
with my 7 year old-ness.
he throws me on the bed, my bed, where I tumble and roll, my red leotard a
momentary flash in the air. Then, tickles me, punches me, lightly enough that
it still hints of a game but hard enough so that I yelp “Stop!”
“Stop!” This is the daily 3-5pm
after school routine: Games of Battleship and Stratego dissolve into
full out chases around the house, me the pursued screaming wildly while
whizzing around living room corners into the dining room, dodging wooden
African statues, silver candlesticks, and leaping over the piano bench to