Ugh, I hate so much to say this because I really, truly, honestly believe I am not a bossy person, but a few recent comments have left me a little concerned.
I'm the oldest of four kids. I'm also the most responsible of four kids (minus Spencer). So we will forgive anything that some have wrongfully mistaken as bossy which is really the quality of a natural leader: the ability to delegate.
It all started when Rach and I were about 9 and 10 years old which put Spence at about 5. We began playing basketball in our driveway everyday after school which was muy fun. However, we lived on a slope as most people in Tennessee do (it tends to be hard to escape hills around here). Everytime your ball bounces off the rim, you then need to retrieve it all the way down the end of the hill adding at least 3 minutes to every one of your failed practice shots. The only good this does is make you extra careful on your shot which in turn made me the best free throw shooter on the cul-de-sac, possibly the neighborhood, and to this day I believe I could rival Steve Nash. However, when you missed the shot, it was a pain in the hiney. Luckily for us, at this time Spencer always wanted to be with Rachel and I. It was annoying but I figured out ways to make him useful. Whenever our ball started rolling down the hill, we would yell at Spencer, "BALL GETTER, GO GET OUR BALL." And he would run. Stumpy little legs, giant head (I think until he was 15 he was in the 110th percintile on head circumference).
Head Size Circa 1998
It just doesn't seem fair, but it happened. Little selfless Spencie, trying so hard, dribbling his own ball in the corner of the driveway until, over and over again, "BALL GETTER, GO GET OUR BALL," where he would drop his ball in a split second and go get ours.
It all started when Rach and I were about 9 and 10 years old which put Spence at about 5. We began playing basketball in our driveway everyday after school which was muy fun. However, we lived on a slope as most people in Tennessee do (it tends to be hard to escape hills around here). Everytime your ball bounces off the rim, you then need to retrieve it all the way down the end of the hill adding at least 3 minutes to every one of your failed practice shots. The only good this does is make you extra careful on your shot which in turn made me the best free throw shooter on the cul-de-sac, possibly the neighborhood, and to this day I believe I could rival Steve Nash. However, when you missed the shot, it was a pain in the hiney. Luckily for us, at this time Spencer always wanted to be with Rachel and I. It was annoying but I figured out ways to make him useful. Whenever our ball started rolling down the hill, we would yell at Spencer, "BALL GETTER, GO GET OUR BALL." And he would run. Stumpy little legs, giant head (I think until he was 15 he was in the 110th percintile on head circumference).
Head Size Circa 1998
It just doesn't seem fair, but it happened. Little selfless Spencie, trying so hard, dribbling his own ball in the corner of the driveway until, over and over again, "BALL GETTER, GO GET OUR BALL," where he would drop his ball in a split second and go get ours.
The other day, we were loading up Spencie's car to head east, when I said, "Oh! I forgot my charger, Spence will you go grab it?" his quick, lifeless response answered my question, "Ball getter, go get my ball."
Sounds like he has a few childhood issues he really needs to sort out. Not my problem.
Sounds like he has a few childhood issues he really needs to sort out. Not my problem.
And the other night, Rach told me I was treating everyone like they were serfs. It's not like I support feudelism because clearly their system did not work but also, I cannot help that I was the first born. So, sometimes, yeah, you are a serf.
(Not to mention, I would look AWESOME ruling a country.)
Last night, I even had a dream that I was bossing my old boss around! This is just getting ridiculous. Anytime real life worries transfer to dreams, you have a problem. Luckily for me, my sister makes a "HEE HAWW" donkey noise anytime I make, in my opinion, a kind and gentle request. If Pavlov was right, in no time I'll be able to recognize what people around me perceive to be bossy.
Bossypants Annonymous. Gulp.
Bossypants Annonymous. Gulp.
you are hilarious. i don't think you're bossy. maybe that's because i'm the oldest too!
ReplyDeleteHahah, thanks for the vote of confidence Ash!
ReplyDeleteOH MY GOSH. I am ROLLING on the ground right now reading this. SERIOUSLY. Hilarious.
ReplyDeleteCute story! Being the oldest, I thought it was one of the perks to that territory! LOL
ReplyDeleteThat's right Grammy! If only they knew what a hard job being the oldest really is.
ReplyDelete