When my brother was in high school and I was a bratty nine year old, I caught him kissing a girl in his room (true to little sister form, I was hiding in the closet....eating a fruit roll-up).
Knowing I had some pretty excellent blackmail on my hands, I held on to the information to be used at the most opportune of times.
One entire month passed and then, at the dinner table, my brother decided to make fun of me for some forgettable reason. I decided then, that the time had arrived.
"Oh, yeah, well at least I wasn't making out with Marci in my room."
There was silence. Then there was shock. And, then, soon after....pure, unfiltered rage.
I left skid marks as I flew out of the kitchen and up the stairs while my father managed to collar my brother whose red face proved a nice complement to the steam smoking from his ears.
How I survived that I still have no idea.
This is Day 42.
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