Brothers and sisters are always competitive. Let me rephrase that, kids in general are competitive. One day my brother said, "Wanna race on the swing set?"
"Sure," I said. We took our rightful places in our swing of choice. I always knew which one was mine because the blue plastic was wearing off of the handles probably from my death grip. My brother gave me his signature deep concentration stare and I returned the look with one of my own-complete with an eye squint and off we went.
We were pumping our legs as fast as they would go. We looked like we were boxing in mid air. My brother glared over at me, noticing I was winning. Not one to be out done, he said, "I'm gonna beat you!" He pumped and he pumped. I started feeling like we were flying. Then I heard it--
Each time my brother was going higher and higher, the swing set was coming up out of the ground. My brother was determined to win. He said, "Ha! Ha! I'm beating you!" Trying to be the voice of reason amidst testosterone, I said, "Slow down!" He ignored me. The next time he went up in the air, the swing set flipped over and we fell to the ground in a heap.
I loved being right. I said," I told you so" as I walked off leaving him to figure out how he was going to explain to Mama that our swing set flipped over. If he'd thought about it, he could have said, the swing set didn't like me so it body slammed me to the ground.