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Monday, March 14, 2016

“I Got All The Space Men”


                                                      “I Got All The Space Men”
From "Maybe It's Just Me"

I mentioned this story in a previous post, so I guess I have to post it.

Well I mentioned it, so now I’ve got to tell it. I was only five so I am a little fuzzy on the details.  

Any resemblance to this story and Bill Cosby’s “Turtle Heads” story is strictly a case of brothers all over being about the same.

In 1951 we moved from Roslyn, L.I. to San Marino, California.  We lived in a three bedroom ranch house. It really had four bedrooms if you count a large closet with a window which was stuffed full with boxes from the cross country move.  Jim was the oldest so he got his own room.  Chris and I shared the other; for about a week.

When we woke up the very first morning, Chris asked me to do something of which I do not remember.  I asked him why me and he said “Because I’m bigger.” Where the next response came from I also do not remember, but it went something like this:

“Oh yeah, well I got all the soldiers!”

“It won’t do you any good, because I got all the guns.”

The next morning I was up first, and woke Chris with:

“I got all the soldiers, and I got all the guns!”

“It won’t do you any good, because I got all the planes and bombs.”

The next morning I was up first and woke Chris with:

“I got all the soldiers, all the guns, and I got all the planes and bombs!”

“It won’t do you any good, because I got all the ray guns, and they can blast all your planes.”

“MOM!!!”

“Jim, Chris, Joe, What’s going on its just 6:30 in the morning”

“Chris has all the ray guns and he’s going to blast my planes.”

“Oh for goodness sake ignore him!....Hell's Bells!” 

Mom’s advice to Chris’ torments was always to ignore it; “Hell's Bells” meant she was getting upset. Had she said “Dammit-to-Hell”, we would have both been scared.

The next morning I was up first and woke Chris with:

“I got all the soldiers, all the guns, all the planes and bombs, and all the ray guns!”

“Won’t do you any good, because I got all the space men, and they control the ray guns because only they know how to use them, you can’t have the ray guns without the space men”

“MOM!!!”

“Jim, Chris, Joe, it’s 6:00 in the morning!” 

(Like most moms with multiple children, mom recited all her children's names with the one she intended to address called out last.  If she wanted to yell at Jim it would be "Chris, Joe, Jim" if she wanted Chris it would be, "Jim, Joe, Chris" ALWAYS!)

“Chris has all the space men and only they know how to use the ray guns so they control them.”

“Oh for heaven sake, just cut it out, I’m tired of this nonsense.”

The next morning I woke up screaming,
“I got all the soldiers, the guns, the planes and bombs, the ray guns, and I GOT ALL THE SPACE MEN!”

"It won’t do you any good," Chris came back with, “BECAUSE I’M STILL BIGGER!”

“MOM!!!”

"Dammit-to-Hell!!"

That night the closet with a window was cleared, and we all had our own rooms.

12 comments:

  1. In your Mom's shoes I would have uttered Dammit-to-Hell much sooner. I admire her patience.

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  2. Little brothers are pests and big brothers are bullies and where is my wooden spoon!

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  3. Bwahahahahahahaha. Your poor mother.

    Have a fabulous day. ☺

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  4. Was that your wily plan to get your own room? If so it was brilliant.

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  5. She should have whipped all of you with a rose bush :)
    r

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  6. Dang, that was a hard battle to win. Really admire your perseverance and if nothing else, it got you your own room---or was it a closet?

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  7. That sounded familiar...I had four younger brothers. And we took "dammit" as a strong warning, too.

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  8. Oh, that's hilarious! Good one, Cranky!

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  9. This is such a cute story. I love it. As the mom of boys, I can totally appreciate this kind of competitiveness (aka big brother bullying) There is just no way a younger brother can get the best of the older brother because the older brother can always play the "I'm older than you" card -- and that just seems to trump everything.

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  10. My older boy, the year he started kindergarten, made my younger boy cry.

    "Your butt's broken."

    "Uh uh."

    "Yes it is."

    "No it ISN'T!"

    "Uh huh! It's got a crack in it!"

    "Waaaaaa! My butt is broken."

    ReplyDelete

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