Justified Punch

There is a person in my life that I love more than anyone. A person who has been there for me through the ups and downs, the good and the bad, the happy and the sad. And that is my little sister Missy. Or as she likes to be referred to as: Melissa. But this is my blog, and I call her Missy. You however, should definitely call her Melissa.

So, Missy and I have had an intriguing relationship since she first grew teeth and was constantly trying to bite me. I was the bossy, charismatic, know-it-all big sister. Missy was the adorable, quiet, my-big-sis-knows-it-all little sister - despite her biting problem. (Side note: the "my-big-sister-knows-it-all" only lasted her very young years) She always wanted to play with me, and I always wanted to play whatever I wanted to play, and however I wanted to play. Do NOT think me evil. This is the way of the big sister. It is merely nature. Over the years I did a lot of mean big sistery type stuff to Missy. No matter what though, her love never wavered.

Do not think her the innocent victim though. We fought a LOT! I have referenced this in the SKAM post. And everytime we fought, I always got in trouble. Stupid Missy almost always got the last word and never got in any trouble. But as the big sister I was supposed to have some invisibility shield against annoying little sisters that kept me from the irresistible temptation of fighting with her. For some reason, all adults felt that my slightly less than 2 years more of life taught me some magical wisdom about "maturity". Of course, she had absolutely no responsibility to know anything about this maturity that I was to be the master of. The crazy thing is that once I lost my temper, I would cool down rather quickly. So after our fights, I was perfectly fine about 3 minutes later. When the fights weren't able to take their natural course and fizzle through, the inner anger built. For every argument that my parents broke up and Missy got absolutely no reprimand, a strike against her went down in the record books. These strikes were building up, and I was a passionate child. A passionate child with an imagination.

One fateful day we were riding in the car with our mom. Mom was in the driver's seat, Missy in the middle, and I was in the passengers seat. It was one of those bench front seats. Don't worry, little Missy was safely fastened in. As we were riding down the road I took a glance over at her. I got to thinking, and remembering- those strikes came back to me. There she was, all cute as a button, absentmindedly kicking her little legs, hands clasped on her lap, oblivious to the anger and detriment she had caused me over the years.

Inner dialogue: Missy is so stupid! She always gets away with crap! THEY (reference to parents) always break it up when Missy gets the last comment. But I was right! And Missy doesn't even know what she is talking about. Her stupid pigtails, she thinks she is sooooo adorable! GRRRR! She is so dumb! and she doesn't even know what she is talking about! And here she is all happy and cute, kicking her stupid legs all happily... she gets on my nerves.

At this point in time I was a silently rumbling Mount Vesuvius and poor little Missy was the unsuspecting Pompeii. Going about her life daydreaming those things little girls dream about. She was completely unaware of my eyes boring into her with PURE anger.

Back to Inner Dialogue: I hate her sometimes! HATE HER! She thinks she is so smart! All those times I wanted to hit her, all those times THEY stopped me from getting my revenge!

(This is where it escalates to another level)

Back to Inner Dialogue: Well NOT THIS TIME! I should just punch her in her stupid "adorable" little face!! Matter of fact, I am GOING to punch her in her stupid face!!!

And this is when I punch my little sister in the face with absolutely NO WARNING. My Mom was thrown off as well. Which was evident by the car swerving all over the road. Missy was dramatic as usual and caused a scene by crying. I had absolutely no regrets. She got what she deserved. I felt completely justified in my actions. My mom quickly pulled over and babied stupid Missy. I was silent and stood off to the side. My mom didn't play. I was about to get my ass beat. But it was worth it. I would face my punishment with my head held high. Justice, in my opinion, was worth the sacrifice. And for some reason, my mom was so flustered that I did not even get in trouble. I could not believe it. Actually, I still can't believe I didn't get my ass beat.

To this day my mom tells the story like this, "Do you remember when Sarah punched Missy in the face for no reason?" I have to quickly interrupt and correct her. "No, MOM! It was not for NO reason! She deserved that punch!" I then dive into this story to exaplin, and people understand my feelings at the time of the incident. I stand by this firmly to this day.

Was it right? No. But ONLY because she did not see it coming. Otherwise, high five to younger me for that one!

hahaha! still makes me laugh to this day!