As some of you may know, I grew up on a small ranch in Eastern Montana. What you may not know is that I have a younger brother who was born a mere 15 months after me. Growing up in a small town with very few kids forced my brother, JE and I to share a lot of friends which put us into constant contact. We often fought as children....actually we still do fight like children. However, it rarely stays at just insults unless we are fighting via the phone, texting, or even sometimes Facebook. We often resorted to much physically violence that sometimes did involve cow poop or calf testicles. Disgusting I know but what can you do???? However, I think most of you will appreciate me not going into great detail about these particular events. The following is a list of insults that were common in the Cooley Household
- idiot
- twerp
- being adopt
- retard
- dweeb
- dummy
- having a brain
- stupid
- tattle-tale
- doody-head
- baby
- he often made fun of my inability to talk correctly (I had a bad lisp)
I am sure there are many many more that we called each other but I doubt that they pass the PG requirement of our class. Furthermore, after we had exhausted this list of insults, we were probably at the fighting/pranking stage of our fight until Mom or Dad broke it up.
The following is a blog that I did last spring for Professor Sexson Shakespeare class on flyting. I hope that it entertains and amuses all of you. But remember if you are going to judge me harshly you aren't allowed to read on!
Pitchforks and Flyting: A dangerous combination!
I will just come straight out and admit it: I was a horrible older sister when I was younger. I have one younger brother and we are only about 15 months apart. Not only are we very close in age but we are also very similar in personality. We both are very competitive and like to be in charge. This often led to much fighting as children. I usually won but am now paying for it. The best and funniest memory I have of us fighting happened when we were around 12 and 11 years old (approximately)
J.E. and I grew up in small town Montana on a ranch. As ranch children we were expected to do chores everyday. During March -May these chores included mucking out sheep, horse, and cattle stalls. One day we were out there working and being older, I finished my half first. Instead of being a nice older sister and helping JE, I decided to just stand there and watch him work. This of course started a fight, which was probably my intention. After he started complaining, I told him it was fair because I shouldn't have to do more work since I was our parents only actual child thus implying he was adopted (he definitely isn't; he is the spitting image of our father). However, I was around for his birth so I obviously have authority even though I was only like a year and a half when he was born! Thus started the insults. I do not remember exactly where they progressed to but I do remember dancing around making a song out of the words "JE is adopted" over and over again. Talk about the song that never ended. Finally he was getting mad enough that I would hide and then sing from my hiding place. My final hiding place was a wooden wind break in the coral by where we were supposed to be working. I would pop my head up and sing then duck down to avoid the snow/mud/whatever he could find that was thrown at me. The last time that I popped up and ducked down, a pitchfork came flying over the windbreak. Good thing that I wasn't in the way!! That ended the fight. I would definitely say that JE won that round. Oh well I won many many more over the years. Even though since we have grown, he now wins more often. Last Christmas, I started a fight and he hog tied me and left me tied up unable to move for about half of an hour. Anyways I digress on that tangent. My point is that rarely are the insults of a fight remembered between siblings except when they are lead to hilarious memories. We have many many memories such as the one above. Whenever extravagant flyting occurs though the fight usually ends in laughter because the insults become so outrageous that they are more funny than mean. This is not the case in King Lear unless one is the person reading the play. Then one remembers one's own experiences of flyting. My brother and I often still flyt. Why just last week we got into a fight over facebook comments and started exchanging insults over wall posts. This gave much amusement to our friends and family. I guess even though lots of years have passed, one never outgrows the enjoyment of fighting with one's siblings. In fact after thinking about all of this "fun" we have had over the years, I am truly looking forward to Spring Break and picking a fight with JE. Watch out little brother. It is going to be on like Donkey Kong over Spring Break!!
J.E. and I grew up in small town Montana on a ranch. As ranch children we were expected to do chores everyday. During March -May these chores included mucking out sheep, horse, and cattle stalls. One day we were out there working and being older, I finished my half first. Instead of being a nice older sister and helping JE, I decided to just stand there and watch him work. This of course started a fight, which was probably my intention. After he started complaining, I told him it was fair because I shouldn't have to do more work since I was our parents only actual child thus implying he was adopted (he definitely isn't; he is the spitting image of our father). However, I was around for his birth so I obviously have authority even though I was only like a year and a half when he was born! Thus started the insults. I do not remember exactly where they progressed to but I do remember dancing around making a song out of the words "JE is adopted" over and over again. Talk about the song that never ended. Finally he was getting mad enough that I would hide and then sing from my hiding place. My final hiding place was a wooden wind break in the coral by where we were supposed to be working. I would pop my head up and sing then duck down to avoid the snow/mud/whatever he could find that was thrown at me. The last time that I popped up and ducked down, a pitchfork came flying over the windbreak. Good thing that I wasn't in the way!! That ended the fight. I would definitely say that JE won that round. Oh well I won many many more over the years. Even though since we have grown, he now wins more often. Last Christmas, I started a fight and he hog tied me and left me tied up unable to move for about half of an hour. Anyways I digress on that tangent. My point is that rarely are the insults of a fight remembered between siblings except when they are lead to hilarious memories. We have many many memories such as the one above. Whenever extravagant flyting occurs though the fight usually ends in laughter because the insults become so outrageous that they are more funny than mean. This is not the case in King Lear unless one is the person reading the play. Then one remembers one's own experiences of flyting. My brother and I often still flyt. Why just last week we got into a fight over facebook comments and started exchanging insults over wall posts. This gave much amusement to our friends and family. I guess even though lots of years have passed, one never outgrows the enjoyment of fighting with one's siblings. In fact after thinking about all of this "fun" we have had over the years, I am truly looking forward to Spring Break and picking a fight with JE. Watch out little brother. It is going to be on like Donkey Kong over Spring Break!!
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