Sunday, July 3, 2011

Crazy is Genetic

 
Often times you'll hear me refer to my brother, sisters and myself.  I don't want confuse you or exclude my younger brother at all.  Before I go any further, let me explain that I actually have two brothers; however, my younger brother misses out on some of these earlier stories because he was a bit of an oops.  A wonderful oops but an oops none the less.  He came eleven years after myself on what I suspect was a very romantic evening for my parents in Maui.  My Mama was 42 when she gave birth to baby Jimmy so I'm guessing that yes indeedy, he was one Mai Tai too many. 

Dad after a fight

So in the beginning, there was just the four of us Bryant kiddos and we were a notorious handful.  Where does this behavior come from?  As I've grown older I've come to understand that it's a genetic trait.  Both my parents were a bit wild in their youth so by adding two naughty young adults they managed to create four (and eventually five) completely out of control teenagers.  

We weren't the kids who were in the police station every weekend or who crashed our cars in drag races.  We were never caught.  We did stupid things and when we felt enough time had lapsed between when we had pulled off our stunts, we would share them at the dinner table or at family holidays along with a good dose of exaggeration and humor.  My Dad would sit back in his recliner giggling away almost wishing that he was young and healthy enough to join us in our capers. 

Now that my youngest is ready to join the ranks "teenager" in less than three weeks, I almost give a sigh of relief that he's not from the biological Bryant blood.  Perhaps he won't be like his Uncle Paul and urinate on miscellaneous flower beds in the middle of the night (though Austy has pee'd on the side of our house.  Another blog, another day).  He certainly won't be like his Auntie Ellen who quietly pulled up behind unsuspecting bike riders and honked her horn to frighten them half to death.  Of course, there's Auntie Kathy who loved driving her sports car at speeds of 90mph through neighborhoods blasting punk rock on her stereo.  Uncle Jimmy eventually grew up and became maniacal too.  My goodness, he was the worst because not only did he have the Bryant genetic trait but he was practically raised by the older crazies.  And myself...thank goodness this gene completely skipped me.  I'm perfect.  I've never done anything wrong.  I was an angel.  ;)







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