The stabbing story

The other night when we were at my parents’ for Fathers Day dinner, my son was provoking his sister. She was swiping at him and he was holding her off with his massive armspan.

My grandmother, who is the sixth of nine children, said her brother Joe used to do that. He would just plant his hand on her head and hold her out of reach so she couldn’t fight back.

He was the fifth child, almost two years older than she. She said he was a bully.

“He pushed me too far,” she smiled. “One night at the table I picked up my fork and jammed it into his thigh.”

Reliving this stabbing made her look happy. I guess those were good tines.

I wasn’t happy. I knew what was coming.

“I’m gonna do it. One of these days, I’m jamming my fork into you,” said my daughter, who was suddenly looking happy.

 Thanks, Nana, for spreading this joy.

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4 Responses to “The stabbing story”

  1. roberto Says:

    Good tines indeed!

    I’ve heard my mother’s fork stabbing story. I’m sure her brother deserved it, but penetration of the flesh is a bit over the line.

    I used to torment my sister, but we never stabbed each other for god’s sakes.

  2. Rosamaria Says:

    I’ve always thought your grandmother was such a kind and classy woman. But after the stabbing and streaking stories, I’m not so sure.

  3. Rhonda Says:

    Good tines! I love it – that’s hilarious! A friend and her sister were making pretend peanut butter cookies with play doh when they were kids. One threw the fork at the other, then the other threw it back, and it stuck in her forehead and hung there. She had four little tine dots in her forehead as an adult.

  4. Rhonda Says:

    My sister is 5 years older and 5 inches taller – she used to beat the crap out of me on a daily basis. For me to even the odds, I always had to use a weapon – I broke 2 telephones and a mirror on her head. If I could have done more, I would have. If it weren’t for her, I could have saved a lot of money on self-help books. 🙂

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