We spent Saturday with most of my family at My Brother John’s house celebrating spring and the Easter season at our annual Spring Thanksgiving. It’s a great tradition my brother started years ago, and I look forward to it every year. It was such a beautiful warm day, which kept the rowdy kids outside, leaving the indoors quiet and breezy and ripe for talk.
Eventually, we found ourselves gathered around the kitchen table when Ryan decided it would be a good time to tell an un-flattering story from my past. Because that’s what spouses do best. Apparently it has good comic value, because everybody was still laughing the third time he told it for those family members who trickled in late.
Since I don’t have any other ideas this morning, I will tell you the story.
Shortly after my older sister, Leslie, returned home from her mission, Ryan and I (still dating at this point) went with her and a group of friends to an ice skating rink downtown. (As a short prologue, I have always adored my sister. She’s smart, beautiful, gorgeously petite, and I will be perfectly honest when I tell you that I was secretly hoping she would come home from her mission having gained a hefty amount of weight. Of course, she didn’t. Not even a pound. I know, I’m an incredible sister.) Anyhoo, as Ryan and I made our way onto the ice, it became clear that ice skating requires a certain amount of physical coordination of which I have none.
As I stumbled along, my beautiful sister zipped past us again and again. I’m pretty sure she did a triple sow-cow at one point. Ryan couldn’t help but say, “Geez, Leslie’s a good skater!”
Another quick prologue here—I am not a jealous person. Rarely do I feel jealous, and even less often do I act upon it. But for some reason, the Tanya Harding in me was hurt by his appreciation of my sister’s amazing ice skating skills and before I could contain it, I blurted this out:
“She’s actually kind of fragile. I could beat the crap out of her.”
Why did I say this? I still don’t have a good reason. First of all, it doesn’t even make any sense as a response. Not to mention the fact that I can’t think of anyone in the world less worthy of a beating than Leslie. And really, was this going to impress my boyfriend? Was I hoping to give him street cred? “Don’t mess with my girlfriend, people, she can beat her 100 pound sister senseless!”
This experience happened well over a decade ago, but its memory lives on. Occasionally when I’m talking about Leslie, Ryan pipes in to say, “You know, you could totally beat the crap out of her.” And Saturday, Ryan felt it was time to share the story with the entire family.
I was glad to give everyone such a hearty laugh, but more than ready to move on when John said, “I think you underestimate Leslie. If I had to say, my money would be on her.”
You know, it’s a good thing Leslie lives in Ohio and couldn’t be there, because I guess I would have had to prove it once and for all.
