Growing up on the south side of Chicago wasn't easy,it was hard staying out of trouble, especially for two young boys always looking for something to do. My mother always use to tell me,"You look out for your brother"; sense he was two years younger than me. She would say; "Don't you come home without him" Yes mame i would say, as I mumbled under my breath; there were times when I hated having a brother, especially when I've been out playing all day and wanting to go home to eat dinner but could ... more »

Growing up on the south side of Chicago wasn't easy,it was hard staying out of trouble, especially for two young boys always looking for something to do. My mother always use to tell me,"You look out for your brother"; sense he was two years younger than me. She would say; "Don't you come home without him" Yes mame i would say, as I mumbled under my breath; there were times when I hated having a brother, especially when I've been out playing all day and wanting to go home to eat dinner but couldn't because he has disappeared somewhere in the neighborhood, now I have to search every friend's house, every school yard, backyard and alleyways looking for him before I go home; tired and hungry I entered the house, "Where's Junior"? she would ask. This is a lot pressure for a 12 year old have to put with."I don't know where he went mama, we were in the play ground and when I turned around, he had disappeared. My mother told me after hearing my story, "Thats' ok, go in there and eat your dinner". My mother knew I had did my best, and I new my brother was in for a long agonizing night of pain, most of the time when I got in trouble, It would be because of my brother. I'm like Jim Carey in the movie where he couldn't tell a lie, well, that's me, old honest Bob; when ever we got in trouble, my mother would always look directly at me, like the time the window was broken; "Alright, who broke out the window"? I was about to speak the truth when my brother yelled out; "somebody threw a rock from outside". I then said nothing and went along for the ride; well, who knew my mama attended the School Of Mother Detectives Of America, she was on the case of The Broken Window Pain Mystery. It all started when my mother caught us jumping on her brand new couch; she told us, " I don't want you jumping on my new couch!" well, that went through one ear and out the other ear of my brother; my brother and I were always competing about everything, even jumping on the couch, he would say, "I bet I can do a better flip on the couch than you," me, always looking to do the right thing said, "no way man, mama will kill us:' my brother always looking to get into anything he can just as long as its fun, "whats wrong, you scared, you know I'm gonna beat you;" Oh know he didn't, "scared"? I yelled; I don't know what it is about that word scared when used in the form of a challenge that just makes a person dummy-up, especially a kid. "Ok, show me"! My brother standing a few feet from the couch ran and did a half of a flip on to the couch; I stood a little futher and ran, did a full flip on to the couch, well, he didn't like the fact my flip was better, so he stood way across the living room, ran and flipped on to the couch as his feet went throkugh the picture window where-by the couch happens to be in front of, well, It was like one of those moments where time seemed to have stopped, nothing was moving not even us, silence fell across the whole planet, our mouths hanging open, we both wanting to cry but no sounds were comming out. The worst part about it was the waiting, right after the was broken, we knew we only had just a few more minutes left on earth, for two young kids it was like sitting on death row, any minute she would be comming through that door, as the seconds wind down, we looked at each other as though we would never see each other again, ther fear, our lives flashing before our eyes only took seconds, I was only 10 and my brother 8, wasn't much to flash; hearing the key in the door was like someone asking us, "you have any last words?" When you think about the story my brother told about the window, its is clear he made three mistakes; first, if the rock was thrown from the outside, wouldn't the rock be on the inside, where"s the rock? two, If the rock, once again, was thrown from the outside, wouldn't the glass be on the inside with the rock?  and three, He simply lied, case closed.  When it comes to punishment, my brother will not stand still for a whooping, I would take my four or five licks and be done with it, because my mother wanted to reserve some of her energy for my brother, she knew it was going to be a track meet; , in fact a marathon run, there she was lacing up her track shoes, strapping on her utility tool belt just in case she had to take the door off the hinges of the bathroom to get  him out or take the bed apart to get him from under it, once she chase him down the track meet ends and the whooping begain; My mother in whooping us always had a saying during the whooping, "This is going to hurt me a lot worst than you". well, at the time I thought that didn't make sense, because I'm the one feeling the pain; but as I got older I new what she meant, she didn't want to have to do it, but it was neccessary.  Less