Sibling rivalry isn’t a big thing in my family. We’re more into sibling teasery, as my arrival at my brother’s home on Thanksgiving demonstrated.
I should have known something was up when my brother greeted me at the door. He was the model of politeness, taking the bowls from my laden arms, helping me out of my coat, and folding it neatly before placing it on a bench by the door.
Then he took me into the kitchen and asked me to read the signs he’d posted.
On the knife block:
JOLENE ASK FOR HELP!
KNIVES ARE DANGEROUS!
On the utensil drawer:
JOLENE
KEEP OUT!
Knives Present!
As is obvious, he used his weekly quota of exclamation points post haste.
Eyes sparkling he said, “I held back all the teasing until you said the pain was gone. After that, I couldn’t resist.”
Soon my older sister joined in. “As soon as you said what happened, I could picture it. You did that kind of thing all the time when we were kids.”
My own two adult children who were eavesdropping on the conversation nodded their heads enthusiastically.
I suppose I could have taken offense. I could have felt like they were ganging up on me. Except for one thing.
They were telling the truth.
My most recent knife accident was just the latest in a long string of them. Even the hand therapist noticed the scar from a sharp encounter of the knife kind that occurred about ten years ago. Since the old one is less than two inches from the newest one, it’s hard to miss.
In light of my record, I’m keeping my mouth shut, my knives sheathed, and my wit at the ready…until one of them does something that requires some good, old-fashioned sibling teasery.
It’ll happen. And I can wait.
