A Running Joke...

My Mother tells me to go and see if my little Sister is ready for school yet. She is; she got ready ages ago. She likes waking at the crack of dawn to watch Cartoon Connection...

At the moment, though, she's out on the front verandah; standing on a stool waving a flag that she's made all by herself- it's an old paint brush with a blue streamer attached- and she's singing a song that she's also made up. We don't get on very well; She's only five and very silly.

I go inside to finish getting ready for school myself- pulling on the hated blue and white checked tunic and stiff leather shoes. I'm always the last one ready. And if I'm not ready soon I'll miss getting a lift to school this morning and then I'll have to walk. My Mother is yelling a warning that's she's walking out the front door Now so Everybody had better be outside in the car within the next five seconds or else she's leaving without us.

But that doesn't happen.

Instead my little Sister slips off the stool she was standing on and falls off the verandah; landing awkwardly in the garden. Our Mother helps her up- lecturing Me for making her run late in the mornings as usual- and bundles us into the car; ignoring the fact that my little Sister is sniffling, rubbing her arm and complaining that it really hurts...

My Mother reminds me to collect her from the Kindergaren room at home time because we have to walk home together- She's still too young to cross the road by herself, you see. She's such a dreamy child that she'll forget to look both ways. I'm sick of my Mother reminding me. I only ever forgot that One time.

When school was over for the day I went into Missus Wright's classroom. She's scary looking; with curly black hair- I'm glad that she was never my teacher. My little Sister is asleep on the floor and Missus Wright tells me that's where she has been since the After Lunch Nap. I wake her up; she's feeling hot and feverish and her legs are shaking as she tries to stand up. She tells me that her arm is really hurting so I carry her bag home for her- I think it was really nice of Me actually; considering I usually hated her with a passion.

The walk home takes us ages; and I'm getting a bit worried that I'll miss the start of My Friend Flicka. When we get there- finally- She falls asleep on the floor again; in front of the television- and stays this way until our Parents got home from work. I can't remember which one of them took her to the hospital to find out that her arm was broken. I was in trouble and had been sent, sulking, to my room...

You see, it had been generally concluded that it was My fault that my Mother had sent her youngest daughter to school with a broken arm because I had made her run late for her Staff Meeting that morning- and if she hadn't been cranky at me for not being ready on time then she would have paid more attention to the one crying in the garden. I still get blamed for it to this day- it's a running joke that comes up every now and then.

This gives me the shits- but what can you do?

I've never felt guilty about my actions that day and my little Sister never blamed me for what happened either; in fact I'd even go as far to say that she was just grateful that there was someone there to help her get home from school that day.

I know I would've been if I was her.