Saturday, July 16, 2005

Sibling rivalry gone crazy

I have an older sister and a younger brother. Yes, i suffer from the terrible affliction known as Middle Child Syndrome, hence the bitterness I bestow upon the world.


(l-r) Sister Jerkface, JerkFace (kneeling), Brother Jerkface


That's me in the middle, all smiles and happy families it would seem... but if you delve deeper, you will see that not all is what meets the eye. Allow me to share some stories of injuries past, some leaving physical scars, some leaving emo-scars that no sunsets or mascara could ever heal.

1) I was 5 years old, and the world was my oyster. I had just given up the dream of being a lion tamer (because my mother bought me a cream-coloured safari suit) to focus on something much more achievable. I wanted to play Cricket for Australia.

It was not uncommon for the three Kav kids to indulge in a bit of backyard cricket, it's an Aussie tradition, you see. The usual rules applied, if you hit the ball over the fence, you're out. One hand catches off the bounce, etc.

I was bowling to my sister, and thought I'd try to fall her with my googly (it's a type of spin bowling technique). The ball left my hand and felt good from the get-go. My sister swung, but it was in vain. The ball fooled the cricket bat, bounced through the gap and hit the stumps. Clean bowled!

I started jumping around in excitement, and looked over at my sister who was not looking so impressed with my spectacular cricket skills. She looked at me in disgust, raised the bat, and HURLED IT AT MY FUCKING HEAD!

I tried to duck it, but I was too slow. The bat clocked me in the forehead and split me open, just like a cricket bat hitting a 5 year old in the head, because that's what it was. She locked herself in dad's car so he wouldnt belt her, meanwhile blood is pissing out of my head and ruining my Star Wars T-shirt.

Dad couldnt drive me to the Dr's because some cunt had locked themselves in the car, so I sat there bleeding until I lost consciousness. I woke up at the Dr's, getting stitched up without anaesthetic because of where the cut was. Traumatic stuff when you're five.

2) We had a trampoline. Why these things aren't illegal is beyond my comprehension. I was about 15 at this stage, my brother was 11.

One sunny afternoon I decide we should play a fun game on the trampoline. I picked up an old wooden fence post that was very splintered and came complete with rusty nails waiting to induce some good ol' tetnus-y fun. I said to young brother JerkFace, "Hey, you jump up and down on the trampoline, and I will swing this massive chunk of evil wood under your feet while you are in the air."

Being my younger brother, he trusted my extra years of life experience and thought it was a brilliant idea. He started to jump and I prepared to swing my weapon. I did the calculations in my head to get the timing perfect, and SWING!

The first swing smacks my brother in the feet right as he landed on the mat, and he goes down like a sack of shit. Huge chunks of splintered wood and rusty nail were hanging from his feet and toes. He started to bawl his eyes out, so to comfort him I pulled the evidence out of his feet and told him, "Shut up! If you keep crying, Dad will hit me!".

For some reason that stopped him crying, he put his shoes and socks back on and my parents were none the wiser. To this day, my brother has horrible tinea-prone feet, and sometimes I wonder if that had anything to do with some rusty nails and rotting wood...

3) About five years ago, my brother, sister and I were sitting in the dining room, eating a well-earned dinner. My parents were overseas, so we had cooked for ourselves. I was digging into some freshly made 2 minute noodles, chicken flavour of course. I was teasing brother JerkFace about something, so he thought it would be funny to do something quite silly.

As I raised a noodle laden fork to my mouth, he hits his hand on the back of my fork while its an inch from my mouth... this could have very easily been quite a tragic story. Luckily, the fork didn't impregnate the back of my throat, causing me to die.

Instead, it stabbed just below my fucking nostrils!

The fork actually stuck into my face and needed a little tug to get out. I ran to the bathroom, looked in the mirror to see four little holes in my face trickling blood into my mouth. Everyone present thought it was hilarious, seeing me getting frikkin stabbed in the frikkin face!

Perhaps the real tragedy of this story was the fact that those delicious 2 minute noodles (who never hurt a soul) were never eaten... I pray that they have gone to a better place...