This was the first post I did way back in February. I can tell how my writing style has changed.



I was just goofing around on line the other day when an IM from my brother popped up extolling the virtues of blogs. He sent me the link to his post and after reading his posts and laughing myself silly, I thought...crap! I can't compete with that! But...the more I read, the more I wanted to do my own, if only for the opportunity to defend myself or tell my version of things. So here it is.

One of Derek's posts is entitled "For God's Sake, Stay Behind The Camera!", or something like that. Anyway, the anecdote tells the tragic story of one Easter evening when, with the video camera rolling for posterity & all that, my mother smashed a raw egg onto my unsuspecting brother's forehead purely for her own amusement. You really have to read his version for the full effect - after all, he was the victim. I was merely the camera-chick.

Our roles in this evil plot of Mom's is the reason for this first post. In his side of the story, Derek says that Mom originally chose ME as her victim but that his whining got her to change her mind and I was inadvertantly saved. But, see...I remember it differently. In my mind, Mom said to us, "I have an idea for the camera. I need one of you to be my partner and one of you to run the camera." Of course we fought over who got to be her partner...which should really have made her feel guilty considering what she was about to do...and I finally gave in and relegated myself to the role of camera operator.

Not that big of a difference, really, unless you understand that I've always believed that Derek is the favorite child. I've been quite vocal about my belief and have evidence to back it up, which I'll get to in a jiffy. Mom, of course, has always denied this accusation and said it's hurtful when I say that. While I believe her, the evidence still stands...

Mom, Derek & I were traveling over to Grand Junction one spring to pick up a car for Derek. We stopped in Frisco at a Loaf N Jug to get some snacky-type treats...a few miles outside of town, I said, quite politely, "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom." With a sigh and that typical Mom-like voice she asks me why I didn't go when we were at Loaf N Jug. Reasonable question...my reasonable reply: I didn't have to go then. "You'll just have to wait then," she tells me.

I waited....I waited....rest stop after rest stop passing by as I sat in the front seat eyeing them with longing. I REALLY had to pee but Mom kept on driving. About an hour or so later Derek leans forward from the back seat and belches out one word: "BAAAATHROOOOM!" He sounded like a cross between E.T. & Young Frankenstein. Not nearly the polite request I had posed earlier. But what does Mom do? "Oh, do you have to go to the bathroom? We'll stop at the next rest stop." AND WE DID!!!! True story, hands in the air & all.

There are other pieces of evidence but that's my strongest and most used story to point out that Derek is the favorite. However, after reading his version of the egg story, I wonder...if he's correct on this and Mom truly had intended to "smite her first-born"...well...I think I have a much bigger case, doncha think?

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