Where To Start?

Keith, Keith, Keith. I'm not sure where to start. I could write volumes on your escapades! I've known you the longest, so I have the most history with you. This may have to be more than one entry. Fortunately, I wasn't present for every single occurrence, that's why I may still be alive with only some broken bones and scrapes and bee stings and a little mental anguish and a small amount of trauma. You were not only dangerous to yourself, but a potential danger to anyone within thirty yards of you. I guess that's why you were so fun to be around. If there's an element of danger, or a possible act of stupidity that needed to be performed, you were first in line, and the rest of us were there to either cheer you on, or be at the ready to run home and tell an adult to call an ambulance. Evil Kenevil had nothing on you, except you outgrew the stuntman phase of your life. Once, when we were little, before any other grandkids were in existence, we were at our grandparents house on 60th & Bancroft, playing in the back yard. You may not remember this, but trust me, you were there. We had built a makeshift fort out of the lawn chairs available. I remember grabbing the dog dish full of water, and you and I washing our hands and face in it. I also showed you where to go pee. It was behind the bush off in the corner. But one particular day, you and I got to work. I was given (as a gift), a two wheel plastic dolly made just for busy-minded kids, such as ourselves. Our grandmother, as everyone knows, had an incredible green thumb, and she had strategically placed some planters with flowers, around the back yard to beautify her little corner of the earth. So you and I decided that day, to put the dolly to good use? We loaded up a half dozen or so flower boxes, and proceeded to haul them down to the patio, dump them out, and build some dirt roads for our hot wheels. I couldn't understand the rage, followed by a spanking, that accompanied this act. After all, what's a dolly for, if your going to get a spanking for using it? And so began our childhood chocked full of disciplinary actions. Not long after that, you guys moved to a duplex off of 66th & Western area. Everyone who knows me well, knows the following story. You and I were going to play football one day, and in the upper portion of your closet were two football helmets, and a football. I was six at the time, and what happened next will be with me for the rest of my life. Since we couldn't reach the helmets and ball, and we were warned by your mom to not climb in the closet, the only logical thing to do was get the desk in your room, and move it over to the closet, and get down our stuff. Since I was older, I engineered the project, you were just my helper. I would climb onto the upper part of the desk, thus making it top heavy, and not OSHA approved, and you were given the menial task of weighting down the desk, by holding on to the chair. A very sound plan. Who would have foreseen the unexpected 'call of nature' that suddenly overcame you? That wasn't factored in when I formulated the plan. So you hastily excused yourself, let go of the desk, ran out of the room to the bathroom, and the rest is history. When my elbow hit your bedpost, I can still hear the break, and visualize my arm going the wrong direction. To this day, I have a killer scar! I'm actually going to thank you for the experience, because I got tons of attention, missed a huge amount of school, and the chicks have always been impressed with my scar, and the fabricated stories that followed. Well this is a start. Put on your seat belts, there's going to be more!