You are such a good friend that if we were on a sinking ship together and there was only one life jacket… I’d miss you heaps and think of you often.
When we were kids, and my brother’s friend, Norman, broke the neighbors garage Window, by being just a tiny bit short with a basketball shot he and my brother ran, and left me standing with the basketball while the neighbors pulled into their driveway. Yeah, it’s kind of like that.
Another time, my two brothers went into a cemetery, led by a mischievous lad. My brothers were unaware of three things. They weren’t supposed to be there, the groundskeeper had enough of that kid and his brother and he possessed a shotgun.
When he caught up with them, my older brother and the other kid jumped the fence, while my youngest brother stopped cold at the groundskeeper’s bark to stand still. Do you think that stopped my older brother to stop? Heck no, he ran like a bat out of hades, (who knew bats could run?).
The neighbor’s other brother and I were feeding the horses in a field next to the cemetery, when we saw my older brother running like Forrest Gump at the University of Alabama. He wisely leaped into the bushes and successfully hid. The groundskeeper let my youngest brother go, under the condition that he never return.
In many cases, it’s every man for himself, and that was one of them. It’s instinct. Something goes wrong, you run. You break a window, you run. You break something valuable, you run. You rob a bank, you run. It’s only natural.
I had to break into our house once, while I was in high school, because apparently, my folks didn’t trust me with a key. They should have. I was standing on an old wooden mail box to attempt to climb through the kitchen window.
The box broke, and I fell right on the pvc water pipe, which shattered. We lived in the country, so we had a well. Water was shooting straight up like Old Faithful, so I had to get to the pump quickly. I knew I would be in serious trouble, so when I got into the house I ransacked the place. I called my Mom at work and told her someone had broken in the house, which technically was true.
My mom called the cops, something I certainly didn’t consider. My father got home just before the police arrived. My Mom told him what happened. Thinking it was two of our neighbors he didn’t like, he told the police that I had scared them off and there were two of them. I had gotten away with it.
I finally told him the truth, on his death bed. He wasn’t happy. My Mom found it hysterical..
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to think of a believable story about the lamp I broke this morning.