www.wotsthatplace posted: " Describe a family member. Welcome to my view of sibling number Seven. A girl-should have been a boy, maybe. She forever acted like a boy and still does. You know we all grew up tomboys in dresses, our father said, "no girls of his are going to wea" Back2thedoghouse
Welcome to my view of sibling number Seven. A girl-should have been a boy, maybe. She forever acted like a boy and still does.
You know we all grew up tomboys in dresses, our father said, "no girls of his are going to wear pants!" And we didn't, just the two boys, the last three of the bunch was a boy-girl-boy. So seven dresses and two sets of pants. of course the older we got, us girls finally got to wear pants-we had to beg dad after the two older one bought jeans. Please daddy please, please, please. "Only on weekends." But until then-dresses and or tunic's, school uniforms were worn.
We still did our sports, running and what ever else in dresses. And to meet number seven…man she was always rolling around on the ground beating up boys. Not the brothers, other boys. Wasn't to many days I'd turn around looking for #7 and there she was…About ten to fifteen feet behind us pounding some boy kid. Oh bother. "Number seven, hurry up, you are going to be late for school."
Number seven was bold and at times quite embarrassing as she would walk right up behind people on the streets mimicking their walk as she showed off to us. The one time while she was not paying attention-for watching us. The man stopped at the end of the street to watch for cars then proceed, while #7 bounced right off him. It was funny to us but not to him.
One thing about number seven was she was always asking for our food, breakfast, lunch and suppers. Man she drove us crazy begging non stop until we gave it or some. Even mom, #7 would ask and ask for mom's food until she got it. Brave girl she was and still is. She will punch the crap out of you with out a blink of an eye…other than that, she would be your best friend, until you backstab her.
She was always coming home with new songs or jokes that she would tell me or teach me, some songs were awesome and some jokes were dirty. But she knew how to tell them and still does.
Number seven is the boss of every thing… or tries her best to be while always changing all the rules, and oh my gosh…she doesn't quit. Kind of takes the fun out of everything, her way or no way.
As an adult nothing changed outside of having children, she is still quick tempered with her rules and willing to floor you on the drop of a dime.
I love her to pieces we did have fun at times. Her jokes are shockingly funny after you see them in your mind, until then I would gasp, "aw…#7." Days later though…slam! Her joke hit my brain sending me into uncontrollable laughter. It did not matter where I was at the time when her joke came to light I whacked out while people watched me pointing or whispering. Only made me laugh more out of embarrassment. Yeah she asked me,why did the chicken cross the road?-"To get to the other side." Yeah okay, now why did the man cross the road? "I don't know. To get to the other side." She said, no stupid, his dick was stuck in the chicken. "Aw…#7!" Shit…days later sitting at a stop light watching this guy cross the road, I caught myself looking to see if there was indeed a chicken, then all hell broke loose, I laughed like a bastids.
She also said to me, what would you do if your best friend all of a sudden started convoluting in the bathtub, having a seizure? What would you do? "What I don't know call 911." She said, no stupid…throw in a load of laundry. 😳 "aw, # 7!" I did not find that funny at all. But days later…🤣🤣🤣, I saw it. I asked for the LORDS forgiveness.
Then she said to me…what would you do if you saw your husband still staggering in the backyard? Sack I don't know. "Leave him there, help him in?" She said, no stupid, RELOAD. "What? She made the actions and sound of a rifle reloading. I laughed like a freaking dog. "Number seven, number seven, number seven."
Don't get me wrong, she will give you the shirt off her back and cook you a great meal, but if you cross her-look out!
Number seven was loads of fun for a time, as kids she never missed one of my Basketball games unless I had to play out of our district. She was a hand full yes, but fun. The only way to control her as a child was to sit on her until she came back to her senses.
There is more but you know. That's not for me to say. Wait her…knock knock "who's there." F U. Or, or knock knock. "Who's there, who's there? Okay #7 who's there?" Her, what are you F-ing stupid? No one is home. 🤨 yeah she swears like a bastid.
I haven't seen number seven for quite a while now, but…I can't ever forget her either .
The End.
Oh wait a minute…knock knock…
Get the F out of here. Bahahaha "aw, number seven."
Oh yeah, she ran away once, and found sleeping under a porch with the rats , so we were told. Oh and she is the one with the dart…wood eye? And she is the one who taught me how to get money from a newspaper box stand. Oh and she is the one who told the baby to throw his poopy diaper at the oldest sister while she was sleeping? Poohy face. Lol. Oh it was not funny. Well? And she is the one handing me a small pickle and saying, can you see Doug? "Yes." Throw this pickle at him. I missed hitting anyone else and we ducked under the table laughing like barking Seals. She's the one who says. Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it. "Okay shit!"
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