Growing Up with Brothers
I Learned to Juggle and My Brother was P*ssed!
A little sister’s revenge.
Growing up with older brothers, there weren’t many instances for me, the little sister, to get revenge, so when the opportunity arose, I took it.
My brother is six years older than me and, how do I describe him, “confident”. Nothing wrong with that.
He knows who he is and what he wants.
If you’ve ever heard of the acronym FIGJAM — that’s my oldest brother.
An acronym for “F*ck I’m Good, Just Ask Me”. Used by many Australians as a sign of triumph after completing a task, winning an award or just as a joke. ~ Urban Dictionary
Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, and he would protect me with his life, but when my life isn’t being threatened, we don’t tend to be in each other’s lives that much. Living in different states will do that.
In this instance, he was working as an outdoor education instructor at a swanky, private boys’ school, taking affluent kids rock climbing and abseiling and sh*t like that.
I can picture them all huddled around a campfire, dressed in camping attire by the latest up and coming designers;
Glamp
Dirtco
Spoiltrot
So when he returned from a two-week camp after throwing rich kids off cliffs, he was really excited to show off…I mean, show me something.
He was around twenty-two at the time, and I was about sixteen.
“Hey, PJ. Come here. I want to show you something.”
Mum and I followed him outside as he rifled through his dirt-covered backpack for something.
As we got to the backyard, he revealed three colourful juggling balls.
‘The kids at camp taught me how to juggle. All us instructors gave it a go.”
He dropped his backpack on the ground. “It took me nearly the whole two weeks, but I eventually got it. I was stoked. I got it faster than Davo and Johno.”
Mum and I provided the expected Wows and Awes.
“Most people will describe juggling as “throwing and catching things”; however, a juggler might describe the act as “a visually complex or physically challenging feat using one or more objects”. ~ James Ernest
“Juggling is “the sport of tossing and catching or manipulating objects […] keeping them in constant motion” ~David Levinson and Karen Christensen.
He got into position.
Back straight. Feet slightly apart. Knees bent. He found his centre.
‘Now. It might take you a few weeks, but it’s just a matter of…”
He threw the balls into the air — a circular cross-over motion.
One ball hit the ground.
Two.
Three.
“Ah, crap.”
My brother scrambled to pick up the balls.
“I’m out of practice.”
He eventually found his “juggling mojo”, and I watched as his confidence returned.
Shoulders back. Chest out. Massive grin.
He was stoked with himself and super happy to show me his new skill.
When he dropped the balls again, he picked them up and handed them to me.
“You give it a go.”
Now, I’d never juggled before unless you consider homework, eating and sleep as juggling.
He demonstrated how I had to stand. I moved into position.
How to hold the juggling balls. I held two in one hand and one in the other.
How to start the balls in motion. And off I went.
One ball hit the ground.
Two.
Three.
“Ah, crap,” I said.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said.
He collected up the balls.
“It took me two weeks remember. So it’ll take you a while to get it.”
He handed the balls back to me.
I recommenced my training lesson.
One ball hit the ground.
Two.
Three.
“Ah, crap,” I said.
This went on for a while until EUREKA!
Good Golly, the Girl had Got it…in twenty minutes!
There were obviously more drops than catches for another twenty minutes or so. Still, I had picked up the skill of manipulating balls faster than my older brother.
I didn’t think that was possible because he spent a lot of time manipulating his.
Within a moment, my brother’s face had gone from chest out, triumphed to kicked in the juggling balls, deflated.
That was the end of my training session.
My Mum was so proud of me but she did her best not to play favourites. Right, Mum?
Moral of the Story
Never give up. Be it a new skill or a new way of life. We only get one, so make it count.
Oh, yeah, and never give up the chance to out-shine your older brother!
Best revenge ever!
FIGJAM!
Tagging some writers who deserve to say FIGJAM; The Sober Vegan Yogi, Scot Butwell, Michael L Butler, Gabby Gabs, Jan Sebastian, Michael Burg, MD (AKA Medium Michael Burg), Brandon 🚣🏼🐝, Janice M. Flanders, Jane Kelley, Vincent Van Patten, Ira Robinson, Betsy Denson, Judy Walker
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