Toast to Language

My memory is definitely not what it used to be.  Sometimes I fear that I might be experiencing early symptoms of  dementia.  However, there are some memories that I can remember vividly.  One such memory dates back to when I was six or seven years old.  At least I hope it was before the age of accountability (8).

It was Sunday morning and I was waiting for the toaster to become available so I could heat up my breakfast. I set my bread next to the toaster to reserve my place in line (kind of like we used to do at the arcade with quarters and video games).  When I returned from powdering my nose I found my oldest brother Eric putting his bread into the toaster, which was clearly a breech of kitchen appliance etiquette.  Like only a spoiled little brother could do, I completely lost control.  With steam coming out of my ears I attacked with the first words that came to mind.  Unfortunately, they were words that I had overheard on the playground at school and I didn't fully comprehend their strength.  They landed with a direct hit causing my target to spin around with an expression of shock and disbelief.  Immediately it was clear to me that my response was not commensurate to the crime committed.  Now I was in harm's way, so instinctively I began my retreat.  Eric was in full pursuit and the battlefield, that was our home, never felt so tiny.  I ducked behind an open door of a bedroom and tried to slow my breathing.  Unfortunately, my heaving chest betrayed me as it caused the door to move ever so slightly.  In an instant, Eric had me on the ground and he sat on my chest.  With a finger in my face he commanded, "Don't you ever say those words again!"  In a mode of self preservation I readily agreed to the terms of the treaty.

I don't remember exactly which words I spoke that sabbath morning, but I do remember being scared by their powerful impact.  Thanks to the tough love by an older brother that day and the positive influence of friends and family over the years I can report that I have been true to the commitment I made.  Therefore, in celebration of over 30 "clean" years,  I'd like to raise a toast to the brother that scared the !#*$ out of me.   Giddy up, StevieG.