Happy Family Day Part 3 - The Siblings

The day I got married my brother Doug was the MC. Part of his speech included the following: it's quite amazing that despite being grossly barraged by teasing and practical jokes Lori still turned out to be a functional member of society.

Barely.

Being the youngest of four children and the only girl had its advantages. I was spoiled. Or by the time I came along my parents were just too tired to notice that I was misbehaving. Or I learned by observing my brothers that if I do "X" then the punishment will be "Z". I would carefully consider their punishment and decide if it was worth it to carry out that action and endure the results.

However, being the youngest of four children and the only girl also had its disadvantages too. The boys had their club of three, and at a young age there was no room for a girl in the club unless I was explicitly invited. Originally I felt that an invite to play with them was an honour, but over time I learned that an invite usually carried with it some sort of teasing or torture or both.

My first memory of experiencing the gang of three was the time they locked me in a bedroom. Rob made sure that I could not escape from the room, Doug flicked the light on and off to create a strobe effect, and Anson was laying on the bed. Anson sat up all the while pretending to be Dracula. At the age of 3 it scared the crap out of me. Mom was in the next room, heard my screams of horror, and came after them with the flyswatter - Mom's weapon of choice she used to keep us all in line. Everyone feared the flyswatter partially from the concept of being hit with something that had bug guts all over it, but more because that thing hurt! I always felt sorry for flies after I was punished with it.

Then there was the time that Anson and Doug called me into my room and asked me to get something out of my closet. I opened the door only to find they had taken a teddy bear, dressed it in clothes, hung it from a noose from my closet rod and jammed an archery arrow into its throat. I'm not sure if I ever told them about the nightmare I had that evening where I dreamed that Dad had hung himself from the shower. It was very traumatic.

Or the time that Rob was laying on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest and told me that he would help me fly by sitting on his feet. I sat on his feet, he pushed his legs out as hard as he could. I was airborne for a split second, but then landed with a massive thud on my knees on the floor. Mom entered the scene, flyswatter in hand.

As time progressed, I grew increasingly wary of anything my brothers described as "a fun thing to do." Around the age of 7 or 8 Rob tied King the dog to my bike, called me over and said
Rob: Hey Lori, get on the bike and King will pull you around. It will be fun!
me: No. It will not be fun. I will get hurt.
Rob: You won't get hurt. All you have to do is sit there, and King will do the work.
me: What if I go too fast?
Rob: If you go too fast just use your breaks to slow down.
me: Are you sure I won't get hurt?
Rob: Try it and see.

I thought about it, and decided that since I had a contingency plan in place for going too fast I should be okay. I sat on the bike, Rob asked me if I was ready, I said Yes and he yelled GO KING GO!

The dog took off, and I was enjoying the ride. I had the contingency plan in place, but wasn't using it because it actually was a fun ride. Right until I started to round the 90 degree bend in the driveway. Knowing nothing about the laws of centrifugal force, I slammed on the breaks half way round the bend, the bike flew into the air, and I landed about 15 feet away in the field on my head. I passed out for a few seconds, came too, and watched the dog still running down the driveway and dragging my bike on the ground. It was not the fun ride I had signed up for.

But it wasn't all bad. My Aunt had sent a card to me for my 7th birthday, but it did not arrive. I did not understand the concept of "snail mail" at that time, and looked for the card in the mailbox throughout the day. That night when I went to bed I was very sad. As I was about to fall asleep I felt something touch my face. I opened my eyes and Doug handed a card to me - I opened it and it was from my Aunt! I went to sleep happy knowing that she had not forgot my birthday.

A day or two later a card arrived in the mail for me. It was from my Aunt. I opened it, looked at my Mom and said "Hey, I got TWO cards from Aunt Joan!" and Mom told me what really happened. She said "Doug could not stand to see you go to bed looking so sad, so he asked me for one of my cards in the card box. He signed her name, addressed it, sealed it, and gave it to you so you would not think that she had forgotten you and so that you could go to bed happy." To that point, it was the nicest thing any of my brothers ever did for me.

A few years later, I was ice skating and got into a fight with the kid who lived next door. The kid hit me in the side of the head, knocked out my earring and I was in pain. I later found out that Doug heard about the fight, went up to the kid and said "If you ever touch my little sister again I will kill you."

Even though they tormented me, they taught me how to defend myself. When I was five years old, they pulled me into a room, taught me how to make a fist properly so that I would not break my thumb when I hit someone, and coached me to learn how to throw a punch. I pitied the guy (who's nickname was Hands) that tried to disrespect me in a bar one night when I was in my early twenties. His face was quite swollen after I got through with him and even though I saw him a few more times at the same bar, he wisely chose to leave me alone.

I was married at the time that Doug turned 40. I was at his birthday party at a bar in Calgary, and got talking to his friend Frank. As the conversation ensued, Frank decided to hit on me.
Frank: I really want to kiss you right now
me: You can't kiss me. I am married.
Frank: It's ok. I don't mind.
me: I mind and I am pretty sure my husband will mind, too.

The conversation went on like this for a few minutes at which point Doug's voice came screaming across the room: FRANK!!!!! QUIT HITTING ON MY LITTLE SISTER!!!!

Doug saved me, or so I thought. Unfortunately Frank was a bit slow on the uptake and continued his pursuit.
Frank: Come home with me tonight.
me: No! I am married!
Frank: Please come home with me.
me: Okay, here's the deal. See that guy there, that's my oldest brother Anson. And that guy there is my brother Doug. If you can convince BOTH of them to let me go home with you, I will go home with you.

I really thought that Frank would get the hint. However, Frank looked at me and said "Doug's a really cool guy! He'll let you go home with me. I'm going to ask him now."

Oh.... my.... God! This guy is dumber than I thought. But I really have to see what Doug has to say. Doug and Anson were standing together talking when Frank interrupted.
Frank: Can your sister come home with me tonight?
Doug (with a look on his face like he has just eaten a raw lemon): NO. DUDE. SHE'S ALREADY MARRIED!
Frank (with look of extreme disappointment on his face): Oh. Ok.

Frank walked away, I looked at Doug and Anson and said "Sorry guys. I tried to tell him that and he just wasn't getting it!"

The next morning Doug, Anson and I were sitting at the table. Everything was pretty silent until Anson piped up and said "So, Doug, did you ever think that you would have to defend your little sister's honour at your 40th birthday?"

A short time after my ex-husband left me, Doug was over at my house. We were talking and I reminded him of the time when I was 10 years old and he put me on a diet because he thought I was getting fat. He set my target weight at 75 pounds! He did not recall doing it, probably because he wasn't the one eating cottage cheese, doing chinups and weighing himself twice a day. He felt bad for what he had done and said to me "I hope we weren't too hard on you when we were kids."

Perhaps for some people it would have been hard. For me, it was character building. I learned when to fight and when to walk away. I learned how to take a joke, and I learned how to play jokes. By growing up with guys around me, I learned how to be one of the guys - a skill that is especially handy when working in an IT department. I became adept at learning things by observing the behaviour of others. I learned that you should never put a lit candle underneath a bed or it will catch fire. I think the biggest lesson of all is that I learned how to forgive.

Now that we are older the four of us get along. Somewhere along the way I changed their name from "gang of three" to "safety net of three" because I know that all I have to do if I am in trouble is pick up the phone and they will be there for me. No matter what.