Little brother Jimmy was a wisp of a child. So thin, Mom
had a hard time fitting him for pants. I remember everytime she left for work, he'd throw up right there on the carpet by the front door. It's not that he was a problem child, he was just sensitive and slight.

He had the most angelic face and curls...He looked like the baby Jesus in that famous painting, The Light of the World.

The neighborhood boys would get the best of him more
times than not, and us girls, we would go out and
scare some of those bullies when the need arose. But mostly it was Dad telling him to stand up for himself and be a man.

I remember Dad showing Jimmy how to hold his fists, how to
stand and what to do in a fight. He kept hoping that one day soon he'd start to stand up for himself. Sure that once he beat the tar out of someone, everyone would just leave him alone.

Next day would come around and here comes Jimmy, all beat up and crying again.

Well, after months of this, Dad put his foot down and told
Jimmy not to come back in the house crying anymore. Jimmy,
ever ready and willing to please, was determined to stand up and fight his own fights. A few days later, Jimmy comes busting through the door, breathless, hair all tousled, flushed in the face, his eyes shining bright with excitement!

"I did it Dad! It was great, you shoulda seen me!" He went into great detail everything that had happened...acting the whole thing out as he told his story. He was punching the air, scrunching up his little face to show how he had looked mean. He was so proud of himself.

And Dad well, he was sitting there getting all puffed up and proud like. That's my boy...he was thinkin. Taught him good, taught him real damn good.

So without hardly even takin a breath, Jimmy continued, "I hit with my right hand then I hit with my left....and boy, Dad, you shoulda seen HER run home cryin!"

10/05/2000

Author's Note: A true story that I love to tell about my now big and burly "little" brother.

Posted on 01/21/2003
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith