The Tables Turn

My brother Mark and I always mock fight by throwing punches and roughhousing.  There’s been a bit of a sibling rivalry there for as long as I can remember.  Growing up I could always take him, no problem, and for a while I was the bigger one and he would be the first to run away and give up.

I guess it’s fair to say that he grew a few inches and gained a few pounds during the time I was away.  He was already stocky to begin with and now he’s even stronger.  During winter break he and I “fought” a few times.  That was probably the last time I’d ever win.

After dinner tonight Mark purposely bummed me a bit roughly, and I knew he was trying to pick a fight.

“I don’t want to fight.  You’d beat me,” I said.

My Mom just started laughing.

Mark said, “Well that was boring.” 

I’ve decided I can pick my battles and that’s not one I’ll be able to win anymore.

Oh, how the tables turn.