Bye Bye Birdie
Ask the others in my family and they will tell you I
I always got blamed for everything even if I didn’t do it. Something missing? Daffy has it. Something broken? Daffy did it. Something smells? It’s Daffy. For instance there was this time I was blamed for my younger Sista falling down a flight of stairs; and by falling I mean one minute she was at the top and the next she was rolling over and under and over along with a rolled up sleeping bag. She eventually smacked the wall at the bottom of the stairs. She was fine and I certainly had NOT pushed her. What does everyone else know? They weren’t there and really she was way too young for her memory to be accurate anyway (shutit Sista! You KNOW I’m right). She only thinks I pushed her because that’s what our mother told her. *eye roll*
There is this one time though that I will totally take credit for. (credit, not blame, because it was funny). We had a HUGE oak tree in the center of our backyard. So big that I was sure if I could actually climb all the way to the top I might find Oz. Nestled at the base was a brilliant blue robin egg. Little Sista gingerly picked it up and danced around the yard, sunbeams bouncing off her pretty auburn hair. (don’t worry, here’s the good part). Daffy, upon seeing the perfect opportunity to make younger Sista scream, pranced over and feigned interest in the wee little egg. Quickly, deftly, with great skill and smooth ninja like moves Daffy smashed that egg in the palm of Sista’s hand all while laughing and telling Sista she had dead baby bird guts dripping through her fingers. *cue hysterics* Like always, the whining tattle tale little Sista went running to Mommy while the mean sister that I was
Before you cry fowl (oh, yes I did….I went there) I wasn’t always so mean to my sista and she certainly was NOT traumatized for life no matter what she says.