Oh Brother, Where Art Thou Sister

Your topic this week is to talk about what it is like to grow up with a brother or sister or both.  If you don't have any brothers or sisters, what do you think it would be like?  What is it like growing up without any siblings? 

Maybe this might not be the great conversation stimulator that the cartoon prompt was; however, I grew up with an older brother, a younger brother, two younger sisters, a younger step-brother, and a younger step-sister.  This is me with my brothers in 86 or 87 I think...

For me, the question isn't will I be able to write about this topic.  The real question is how much do I really want to tell the world about this topic?  For example, do I start off by telling you how much I love my brothers and sisters?  Or instead, do I tell you about the black eye I went to school with because I got into a fist fight with my older brother?  Should I be embarassed that he punched me in the face so hard, I'm not sure which hurt more-the punch or hitting the ground after he connected?  Granted, I got up from the floor even quicker than I hit it...so should he be embarassed that he ran to his room and locked the door?  To this day, I will not forget the embarassment I felt going to school with a black eye from my brother. 

Yes, that's the older brother who gave me a black eye.  This picture, believe it or not, was taken around 98 or 99...my black eye disappeared.  This picture is a black eye that isn't going to disappear anytime soon...

Still, a black eye beats getting hit in the face with a metal bat.  That story would be about my younger brother.  We were in our neighbor's back yard playing homerun derby.  He would pitch a tennis ball to me 10 times.  Then we would switch.  The one with the most homeruns (over our other neighbor's fence) won.  I'll start off with this...he had no chance to win.  I think I had hit 8 of the 10 out.  He had missed his first three or four.  So, I started to pitch him inside.  I hit him once, and he said I'd better not throw inside again.  I said ok, and then I pitched inside again.  He charged the mound.  Now, if you've ever watched a baseball game where the batter charges the mound, you'll notice he drops the bat.  My brother isn't necessarily a baseball player.  He brought the bat.  I didn't run or dodge his swing...why would I?  What brother hits another brother with a bat...in the face?  Mine. 

That's the younger brother around 98 or 99...true, he doesn't inspire fear.  Put a bat in his hands though...

I don't have many memories of my sisters when I was younger.  Not that they weren't there.  I remember eating dinner with them...but I didn't get into fights with them, and they weren't playing homerun derby with me.  They were probably off playing with their Cabbage Patch doll or whatever it is girls do when they are young.  Now that I think about it...it's kind of strange that I don't remember hanging out with my sisters at all.  Oh well, I'm over it. 

That's my youngest sister...I think we were dancing at a wedding.

That's my sister who is finishing up college right now.  I'm pretty sure that's not her normal face.

I love my siblings, brothers and sisters alike, and I would do anything for them.  However, we had wars and we used weapons.  Now my older brother is married with a few kids and running a business.  My younger brother is teaching philosophy at Notre Dame.  What am I doing?  I am blogging about them...apparently I took one too many blows to the head growing up.

P.S. You like that title?  In the business we refer to that as an allusion to a great movie!  Sounds like an upcoming blog topic...