My sister Connie is seventeen months older than Marilyn. She was protective of Marilyn from the start, always giving over to “the baby,”. She wasn’t encouraged to do it, that’s just how she was. Mother was careful not make a difference or favor Marilyn. In fact, she was felt bad at seeing Connie knocked out of the baby spot, so bent over backwards trying to be fair.
Marilyn had no problem asserting herself. Since Connie didn’t want Marilyn to get in trouble, she rarely hit Marilyn back or tattled on her. I infer this worked well for Marilyn.. As country children often do, one day Connie didn’t want to take time to go in and wee wee. She simply darted behind a tree to do the job. Finding an abandoned hubcap that served as a dog-feeding dish, she squatted and filled it. As she stood, Marilyn slipped up behind her and kicked it, splashing Connie liberally. Instead of smacking Marilyn like a normal kid would have, Connie just exclaimed, “Damn!” Marilyn was off like a shot, looking for Mother, Connie ,right behind her as soon as she got her wet clothes pulled up.
””Mama, Mama! Connie said “Damn!” This was big trouble. Mother wouldn’t tolerate trashytalk.
Mother whirled around, shocked, expecting Connie to deny the evil deed. “Connie, did you say, “Damn?”
”Yes ma’am.” Connie whimpered. Had she told Mother what Marilyn had done, they would both have been swatted.
”Get me the fly swat.” Mother kept a plastic fly swat hanging by the back door ready for just such a occasion. She gave Connie two or three quick swats and dismissed her, while Marilyn stood by self-righteously. It was years before Connie told the whole story.
I wonder if the dogs thought “Damn” later that day when they smelled pee in their dish.
My family: I am in the back row Left, holding Connie’s hands, Billy Center, Phyllis holding Marilyn Right.
Nutsrok 
My son was almost three when his little sister was born, and he was extremely protective of her. One day I heard him crying in pain, and when I ran to see what was going on, I found him on the couch next to his baby sister. She had a handful of his hair and was pulling on it. He was three times her size and could easily have swatted or pushed her away, but he wouldn’t do it because he didn’t want to hurt her.
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No doubt they did!
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We had lots of banned words at our house.
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So did we. I had my mouth washed out with soap more than once for using what my mother considered unacceptable language.
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My favorite flavor was ivory.
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When I lived with my Grandparents they didn’t even have to tell me what they were, you knew not to use any. Granny said shit so I occasionaly got away with sayng that with Gramps around.
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You do learn from people’s reactions!
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It always amazes me that some people consider words like damn and hell as bad words, not like that in my family
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Oh, that would get my fanny paddled, for sure.
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This is a family portrait in words and a photo. Marvelous!
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I think that’s the only photo of all five. Mother was serious about good behavior.
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I’m glad you have that photo. We had more than that, but there were only two of us..
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I am glad, too!
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