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As the youngest of four children, I will always remember those special moments growing up when, seemingly out of nowhere,
the gauntlet would be thrown and my brothers Danny and Kevin would begin fisticuffing right in the middle of my teaching lesson with my imaginary, but still somehow awful students.
Depending on the level of testosterone jettisoning through their veins that day, one of four courses of action would be taken by either me or my sister:
1) Call our mother at work.
2) Threaten to call our father at work.
3) Call our father at work.
4) Announce our father was on his way home.
If Step 1 was taken that meant the bros. were still in a state where they could be reasoned with as our mother's response was usually, "Put someone on the phone!"
If an unreasonable amount of reason was lost, sometimes all it took was Step 2 to restore peace.
Step 3 was resorted to if I could no longer hear myself yelling at my students; after all THEY NEEDED TO LEARN! If the chilling response on the other end of the phone was, "I'll be right there..."
Then the 4th and final Step had been launched and either myself or my sister, Erin would announce from a strategic position at the top of the stairs "Dad's coming home!" and we would quickly seek refuge in the bathroom, (the only room with a lock on the door).
Sibling rivalry between brothers is not a new phenomenon - consider how Cain became an only child. My brothers should thank their lucky stars they had sisters who constantly ratted them out for their own good. (You're welcome.)
They knew each other's triggers. Every sibling does. This is the "benefit" of living with family members in your formative years.
The biggest downside to all this knowledge is that you pigeonhole your siblings and it might take a complete stranger to give you a fresh perspective on them.
Our eldest brother Danny happened to be at a wedding where he was introduced to someone from our old neighbourhood. When this person heard my brother's last name he asked if he was Kevin's brother. I didn't have to be there to know the response was, "No. Kevin is my brother."
This guy (I will call him Old Faithful), is about eight years younger than Danny and five years younger than Kevin. He began to tell Danny about the time Kevin was walking home from school when he spotted Old Faithful and friends playing ball hockey and asked if he could join.
Old Faithful was over the moon at the prospect and handed him his own cheap stick and sat on the sidelines to watch the magic unfold. Magically, Kevin managed to transform Old Faithful's only stick into two pieces with one slapshot.
Old Faithful's heart sank because he knew his father did not put much stock in hockey or the accouterments with which it's played and there would not be another stick in the future.
Fortunately, hockey sticks were considered a necessity in our household.
Kevin told him not to worry about it, he would bring a replacement stick the next day. Although Old Faithful appreciated the sentiment, he didn't really believe it would happen.
But true to his word, Kevin showed up at his doorstep the next day and handed him a brand new KOHO stick. "I didn't think he would show up at all, never mind with a brand new KOHO...a @$#%& KOHO!" Old Faithful gushed.
My brother Danny was so energized by this portrayal of his brother as a superhero, that in a moment of brotherly pride, he quickly shot an email to Kevin detailing the conversation that took place at the wedding.
Kevin rebounded: "Didn't you ever wonder what happened to your KOHO?"
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