YOU DID WHAT???

so i just got off the phone with the crippled sister. i miss her. she is one of my best friends. i can hear the sound of the cute squeals and giggles of her sweet baby maddy in the background {sigh}. she tells me about stubborn-ly telling her OBGYN that she WILL deliver this baby (due in july) the way every one else does, instead of having a c-section. you go, my sassy red-haired vixen of a sister

then, she talks about how she is not giving up on her dream of being a published writer and she urges me to pursue my own talents and i smile with pride... truest, bestest sister to the end. just before she hangs up she reminds me of one of the big fights we had as kids and how, apparently, i kicked her... in the crippled legs. i don't remember it and she laughs it off.

whatever whit... like it really hurt! {evil grin}

then i remind her that her line of defense (if she couldn't run us over with the chair) was pinching. i think i still have nodules on the back of my arms where the skin is permanently squished together. plus, what she lacked in physical aggression she made up for in her (sometimes) cruel and quick wit. i didn't stand a prayers chance and she knew it. boo, you big meanie. i tried to get her back. but i could never quite penetrate- i think that the alloy her chair is made of contains a magic force field of sorts. be that as it may... i never did stop trying and never did stop failing miserably at getting back at that dear, sweet sister, 3 years my senior.

but then again... there was that one time... that one fateful day... the day we didn't even tell mom about til approximately 5 years after it happened. that one spring morn... i remember like it was yesterday {cue cheesy fade away music}

1995 was a good year. the 49er's won their 5th superbowl title... oj simpson attempted to squeeze into the "tiny gloves"... forrest gump changed the world with one simple phrase- "stupid is as stupid does" (how fitting for this story) and I-- I GOT MY LEARNER's PERMIT!!!

whitney, had already graduated high school and gotten herself a cushy little job at the marriott hotel and with her big ol' paycheck purchased herself a new, sporty little car.

(by the way... yes she can drive... they attach what looks like a bike handle to the steering thingy {technical term} and she uses that to control the gas and brake)

okay back to the story: whitney, being the awesome big sister that she was and me, being the pushy get what i want little sister had a deal. whenever we were driving short distances: the store, mall and such, she would let me drive to get practice... yesss!

this particular sunday, in my mind, was no different. we were just leaving a church building, where we had attended the mission farewell of a good friend of ours. i always carried the keys, because even if i wasn't driving, i was responsible for opening the trunk to insert her chair after she had gotten into the car.

on the way up to the car, whit mentioned that she wanted to drive. no way... our bargain... remember? i wanted to drive, for real... it was like three streets away. but she was insistant. and so with all of my deming stubbornness i opened the driver-side door, got in and shut it behind me. i looked at whitney through the shiny glass as she sat on the sidewalk... with her pissed face... arms folded.

"get out of the car... i'm driving this time." i could hear the muffled sound of her demand through the "shield" that kept my toes safe from becoming road-kill.
"no... just let me drive to eric's!" i shouted back.
"no... get out!"
"no" insert heels into the dirt and bear down. and with all of my pre-16-year-old defiance, i locked the door to prove my point. i was NOT getting out.

did i mention that i am the only blonde in my family? all 4 of my sisters are sass-o-frass red heads. did i mention that you should never cross a red-head? don't test me on this point. did i tell you that, by this age, i should have learned my lesson? yeah, i hadn't.

at this point, i put the key in the ignition and turned it on, rolled down the window and with a softer approach tried to manipulate my sister into giving in and letting me drive.

no dice!

whit rolled past me without saying a word and parked her chair right behind the car... nope... we weren't going anywhere until i relinquished. and boy, did she ever have another thing coming!!!

it's this point in the story which i have paused to think about, on more than one occasion. that moment when a thought forms and one makes a decision. that moment when one REALLY needs to think through the consequences of that decision... long before acting. yet, it is this moment in time that i can truly say illustrates all of the reasons why-- teenagers are stupid!

in my 15 and 3/4 year old brain, a little thought popped up. "put the car in reverse and let the car slowly back up... like you're going to hit her... then she'll move and you will have one-uped her... BRILLIANT!!!" yup. i know. you can already see where this is going... can't you?

- hand to gear shift
- gear shift to reverse
- nothing... no movement
- pause to think about this
- must keep going with the plan
- but the car didn't move
- how to make the car move?
ah-hah...
- apply the slightest amount of gas

let's do this as it was all happening in slow motion... because i swear it did...

- apply gas
- car jolts backward (because that's what happens when one applies WAY TOO MUCH pressure to the gas peddle)
- BOOM!!!!
- look into rear view mirror and see my crippled sister's, lovely crippled legs flailing through the air as she does a swan dive into the pavement.
- apply brake
- throw car into park
- throw out a couple of swear words that cannot be written at this time
- race out of the car to run to the aid of my injured sister
- stand there looking like the stupid idiot that i am... not knowing what to say

then... out of nowhere, i look up to see her... relief society lady.

running toward us, arms full with books, doilies and a vase full of fake flowers. having witnessed this awful crime, she was mortified at the sight of the writhing crippled girl who was sitting on the ground, nursing an injured wrist and glaring at me.

with all the venom that one human can possess, this sweet RS sister bored searing red-hot holes into my head and hissed at me with a low growl...

"YOU HELP ME GET HER UP!"

i could do nothing but obey.

the rest of the story is pretty much a blur. we somehow managed to get whit into the car and in dead silence, drove home. i mean... SHE drove us home. and true to her character of always trying to protect me, she lied and told my mom that she was trying to do a pop-a-wheelie off the curb and fell. mom, thankfully bought the lie and took whitney to the ER where they told her she had (luckily) only sprained her wrist.

without hesitation, this probably has to be the absolute stupidest thing i have ever done. it's so stupid that i don't even allow myself to think of all the possible outcomes of that stupid decision... they are too painful.

however, at least i had one thing to hold over whitney's head from that time forward. every time we were ever in a fight... all i would have to do was look at her and say "vroom, vroom." ha! just to remind her that i can always run her over with her car again... if she wasn't careful... or was it she who was saying "vroom, vroom" to remind me that all she had to do was tell mom the truth and i would NEVER get to drive the car in my life, ever again... DRATS! FOILED AGAIN!