Wednesday, September 11, 2013
He was never sick
This is probably the grossest thing I have written about. Autocorrect thinks I am talking about hockey.
I don't remember my older brother getting sick when I was little. Now he had the occasional horrible illness like chickenpox and mumps, but that's kinda it. I think I know why: hockers.
When we were little we had a house with a pool. Around the pool was a red fence, at least I think it was red. The cool thing for my brother, cousins, and all his boy friends to do was muster up slime from their innards and try to hit the bottom of the fence just right so it would dangle and dry right there. Yep long lines of dried snot just beyond the picturesque yard that we spent time on our hands and knees pulling weeds in.
As I sit here I can hear them laughing. My brother's laugh was contagious. (When he watched Monty Python downstairs at night I would hear him laughing as I lay in my bed and I would start laughing.) Laughing and spitting. I am certain that anything that entered their bodies that could possibly be sucked up was and then it was left as 70s yard art. Viruses, bacteria, and likely other nasty boy stuff never had a chance. The really disgusting thing for me though is that I am quite certain on occasion it would fascinate me so much I would wander over and touch it. Okay, nothing will ever be grosser than that.