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.
Holy cow! I am still laughing! I’m really not sure which is more funny — you wanting to beat me up, or that I created jealous feelings with my skating. I’m pretty sure there must have been someone there who looked a lot like me. I am a totally crappy skater – all three times I’ve been.
But, I guess we WILL have to settle this whole argument when I move back to Utah! You and me; by the flagpole at Midvalley; July 4, 2008; high noon. Better start training now sis! (Cue the Rocky music.)
I only say this because I’m you mother, so please don’t just brush it off: If you ever feel the need to get to the bottom of this, I can recommend a very good psychologist. I’d be glad to pay for your first visit. Oh, and he is probably the only one I know of that makes house calls.
This is even funnier in blog form! I’m laughing so hard at my desk that people are looking over the wall at me.
As usual, great story! And now I am jealous that you have Spring Thanksgiving – I haven’t had any good family ridiculing story-telling in quite some time (in my family the siblings are really good at recounting unflattering stories, the spouses are still too new and too few to have it down).
PS – If I remember correctly, I was trying to impress my date that night. Therefore, anything I did that could be remotely labelled as ice skating would be equal to the time that Mom swam/doggie paddled out to the middle of the lake with Dad on their honeymoon, and THEN decided to inform him that she didn’t know how to swim. . . . The lengths we go to to impress men — for some of us it’s pretending to know how to swim, for others pretending to know how to ice skate, and for others still, talking smack about your sister!
That is hilarious! Wish we could have been there to enjoy Ryan telling the story, I can only imagine.
Sounds like you’re ready for a tryout with the Rangers or the Islanders when you get to NYC. They always need goons with the playoffs right around the corner!