Who Comes Up With These Wacky Holidays?

Who comes up with the wacky holidays? Even the publishers of the calendars of such can't find who to credit in many instances. Take this one: Jump in a Puddle and Splash your Friend Day. Lately every day could be a good one for doing that, and creating lots of laundry, too. It is designated for celebration on January 11, normally not a day for puddle-jumping but for snowball throwing. All I can think is the originators know my little brother, and decided that was a fitting way for him to celebrate his birthday - aggravating - with a fun, innocent 'who me?' grin for all the soggy bystanders.

Fortunately for him, I guess, fate gave him me for a big sister. He had a ready target for all his shenanigans growing up. He could be absolutely exasperating and could flash that 'who me?' look at Mom and avoid, not only harsh, well-deserved scolding but all scolding whatsoever! Many times I would get the brunt of her frustration and be told to go outside and quit tattling. Hmmph. Maybe that was the way he got back at me for always trying to keep him on the straight and narrow in my bossy, big sister voice. He needed lots of bossing, and I, a whole three and a half years older, knew what was best for him if not for myself.

He had a way of getting me involved in some of his crazy ideas, and if they didn't work, well, big sis was supposed to know better, so again he could divert what should have been coming to him. We did have normal sibling fun, making blanket tents between our beds, playing in the hose and sprinkler on sultry St. Louis summer afternoons before naptime, rolling down the hill at the park gaining speed as we neared the sudden stop at the sidewalk, playing in leaves Dad raked, riding bikes, spalshing in the kiddie pool, watching cartoons and eating cereal in front of the television on Saturday mornings and enjoying our weekly treat of RC and popcorn watching Lawrence Welk and wrestling on Saturday nights. I remember playing cars with him, but I don't think he ever played dolls with me. Maybe I wouldn't let him. We played marbles on the front stoop in the hulahoop ring, played Sorry and Cootie and Mr. Potato Head. From birth till he could get away from me on his own, he was a serious student, letting me read to him all the time. His two favorites were Blaze Finds the Trail and The Biggest Bear. Coincidentally, they were two of my favorites, too.

We're all grown up now, both still living in this area since our move from the city when he was in middle school and I was a senior. It bugged him that I could legally drive before he could, so when I was acting as taxi and picking him up after the movies or a game, I had strict instructions on where not to be seen. We are both sixty-somethings adjusting to this retirement thing, and once in a while I will hear about some of his escapades that I missed since I was away at college. He and our little sister, who came along after eight years of just the two of us, have their own list of adventures that I am still uncovering. Makes for some interesting discussions when we get together.

The most fun for me lately has been seeing the looks on faces when others realize I am his big sister. My name has had a different last name tacked onto it for most of my time in Ripley County, so that may be why. When I say my maiden name is Pearson, that Glenn is my little brother, oh boy! After the raised eyebrows and snickers, I usually hear about another shenanigan or two. He had way more fun than I did not having to set a good example for a little brother.

I hope he enjoyed his birthday on January 11. He still has that aggravating streak, so maybe he was able to jump in a puddle or two to tickle his funny bone. Happy birthday, little brother! Love you lots!