Golden Showers

In the flurry of excitement that is my life, I rest for a moment and ponder my youth. Its fun if you are me. Well its also kind of sad, but I find the humor at the heart of it so.. if you are sick you will join me. I have been trying to go in some kind of order with the memories that I relate but, alas, I can not seem to be thus inspired. I have to jump forward a bit and tell you that in my youth, we moved, a lot. I am not just talking about the occasional move to a bigger house. I am referring to an ever changing reality that sent our little pocket of crazy to a different town or location but especially school, at LEAST once a year. In all actuality, I have a hard time putting things into some kind of chronological sequence because of it.
I know I was about eight years old. I know this because I remember my mom getting a huge roll of white paper and letting us write and color all over it and then she used it as wrapping paper. I thought it was so cool. I also remember my parents being gone a lot. I dont know if that is because the interesting things that happened all happened while they were gone or if they really were gone quite a bit at the time. Its a child's perspective.
My father was employed, at the time, by a company which sold orthopedic devices. Old people crap. Scooters and chairs that lifted you out of them and other stuff that escapes me because of its lack of relevancy to this particular memory. Foolishly, my father used to park the demonstration models of the scooters he sold in our house. We being, a fore mentioned, alone a good deal of the time and mischievous, loved to race the scooters against each other down our hallway. There are a few things to know about this sport. First, the demonstration models, because of their frequency of use and misuse and transport, were souped up. Also the wheel base of two of them racing side by side was wider than our hallway, and lastly, they had a crappy turning radius.
It was evening, my two brothers and my sister and myself were racing as we would any other night and we scuffed the walls of our rented house many times that day. We had noticed that one of the scooters seemed to be the winning scooter regardless of who was the driver. Slamming the scooters into their parking spots on either side of our black and gold dining table, my sister and brother proceeded to get into a bit of an argument about the fairness of my brother's recent victory. He declaring himself the champion and my sister the looser sent my sister into a playful rage. She stated that she would be racing on the winning scooter the next time and that my brother needed to remove himself from said scooter. "NOPE!" was the retort.
"I'll sit on you"
"I don't care"
And she sat. My brother was extremely opposed to being held down. He really hated the feeling of being trapped. He pleaded with her to let him go. My sister was only amused. My younger brother and I sat tentatively watching from the safe distance of the green velvet couch. His cries for freedom were unheeded by my sister who was now beginning to laugh a diabolical laugh. His cries turned to pinches and pokes and demands for release. Threatening to beat her, he screamed. This only made her laugh harder. and harder.
She stated through her tears of laughter that, if he did not cease his squirming and causing her to laugh, she was going to really get him..
How, you may wonder, was he going to be gotten?? PEE.
She threatened to pee on the both of them if he did not stop. Well as you may well imagine, this only increased the desperation and intensity of the cries and attempts to eject her from his lap. Her face was red and she was laughing a laugh that was both terrifying and contagious. And then, in a voice that I dare not attempt to describe as any but sheer disgust, he screamed. "THERE IS SOMETHING WARM ON MY LEG...........ARE YOU??...........DID YOU???.........GET OFFFFFF!!!'
Only proving to egg her on. Sadly I saw liquid run over the leg of my brother and onto the scooter atop which they were perched. My sister.. I then realized that if she wanted you to suffer for her amusement, she was willing to take the bullet with you. She wanted to piss him off that badly... Pun intended.
This was an extremely scaring experience for my brother who was normally a really tough guy. He, to this day, and he is in his thirties now, can not speak of the event without getting angry.

There is a moral to my story... don't race with an unfair advantage unless you want to get peed on..