Tag Archive: brother family dysfunctinal

Slightly Frazzled

kids fighting

It starts out as a low whine and by increments it steadily progresses to a high-pitched shriek “I’m Gona tell GRANDMA!”

Next I hear feet running across the floor as the siren shrieks to search out where grandma is hiding!

“Grandma, Lee, he, put his butt in my face! He told me he was going to fart in my face!

Lee, yells from his bedroom, “I did not! You, you’re just trying to get me in trouble JOSIE!”

Am not
Are too
Am not
Are too

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, what special misery awaits me today?

I am not even out of bed yet!

There is nothing like waking up in the morning to kids circling my bed screaming over the top of me wanting me to intervene to punish one of the offenders so the other can privately gloat which sets off another string of complaints against the other.

I clamp my pillow over my head to try to muffle out the rivalry between the two beloved children but their thirst for justice will not be abated.

I debate if I should keep my head buried under the pillow until they leave but upon peeking out from under the pillow I see very determined eye balls looking at me so that is not really an option.

Hmm, which one do I throw to the curb so that temporary peace will be restored? Both are guilty of breaking the sound barrier! The assault on my ears should be a felony!

This situation calls for the standard response. It starts out as a low whine and by increments it steadily progresses to a high-pitched shriek “If you can’t get along SEPARATE NOW!”

I am seriously thinking about installing loud speakers in the house that will play the same recording every time a fight breaks…a very loud, annoying sound like fingernails slowly racking across a chalkboard!

Slightly Frazzled,

Donna Faye, CDP


Little Brother

My journey in learning how to be Calmly Dysfunctional began on a hot August day in 1955.  This is a day that was forever etched in my mother’s mind because for the next 20 years she frequently reminded me of that fact.

I was the fifth child born to my parents, Kenneth and Margie Robinette.  I have two older sisters, whose names are Vivian, and Vickie.  I also had two older brothers, one whose name was Marion (deceased), and the other brother’s name is David and then me.

When I was five years old my mother and father brought home a baby boy whom they named Danny.  So respectively the pecking order of the family were Vivian, Vickie, Marion, David, Me, and Danny.

Danny dethroned me as the “baby” of the family and I did not take being dethroned lightly and for the next few years I feverishly hatched plan after plan to do away with the little pest that was stealing all my attention.

I fed Danny liquid furniture polish which caused blisters in his mouth.  In my defense I thought he was thirsty!  When mom seen what I had done she looked very pale then pure pandemonium broke out as she rushed Danny to the doctor. How was I supposed to know it could cause blisters!

Mom, told me to watch the baby while she milked the cows.   Danny was standing in his crib crying so I gave him a coat hanger to play with! The coat hanger when through Danny’s cheek!  He looked like a fish dangling on a hook!    When mom came in from the milk barn and saw Danny’s cheek I thought she was going to faint for a second and then pure pandemonium broke out.  She snatched Danny up and ran like she had fire on her heels and headed to the emergency room.

I had a little chair whereI would hold Danny and rock him but somehow (?) I always manage to flip the chair over backwards and this little bundle of job would be airborne!   Fortunately, someone was always hovering over me to intercept my brother before he hit the ground.

My mother quickly realized that it would not a good idea for me to watch the baby!   However, when my brother was six years old I saved his life when he accidently tried to hang himself on our Weeping Willow Tree while playing cowboys and Indians.  It never occurred to my little brother that the cowboys he saw on television were acting!  So, I redeemed myself for all my misdeeds when I untangled him from the Weeping Willow Tree!

But, there was also the time when I was teaching Danny how to climb upon a car and swing on the branches of a Willow Tree like Tarzan. The branch broke and Danny landed on a slab of concert and he broke his arm in two places!  Come on give me a break! Now I ask you was it my fault that he could not swing like Tarzan!  I just can’t be responsible for every little thing that happen to my brother… like when he fell out of Mimosa Tree in my aunt’s yard and broke his other arm a few years later!

Danny was accident prone -at least that’s my story and I am sticking to it!  But, somehow, we both survived our childhood and we actually became good friends but to this day Danny will not ever let me forget that I tried to get rid of him!

On his 50th birthday Danny paid tribute to me in poem as the sibling who always unsuccessfully tried to kill him!

Donna Faye, CDP

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