Friday, September 28, 2007
Eye Lashing Out (Or, The Big K)
I frequently tell stories about my mother and, when I do, most people think I was raised by a drag queen.*
However, I've never really told a story about my younger brother here - and it's about time.
When my brother was a kid - he was a total cut-up. Not that he's not funny as an adult, but he definitely had a streak of wit early on.
My brother was a genuinely adorable kid. Which meant that women - all women - young and old - fawned and cooed and pinched him and hugged him and squeezed him like he was a doll. He never got tired of the attention, but sometimes, he would sass those who were doing the squeezing. Once, in the middle of such a squeeze/pinch/oooooo-athon, the woman doing the cooing said:
"Oh, Jason. You have such pretty eyes. Where'd you get those eyes - your mom or your dad?"
"My mom," my brother replied.
"And where'd you get that cute smile?"
"And where'd you get those long eyelashes?"
*I'll qualify that at a later date. Those who know Linda Marie know exactly what I mean.