Because I had so much fun blogging about an event in my childhood, I decided to do it again.
First, meet my brother, Pasquale!
Pasquale is only a year and a few months older than I am. I was sort of young when my parents got divorced and we moved in with our dad, who basically didn't let us leave the house. Because of that, my brother and I spent a LOT of time together. Wow... now that I think about it, we were actually quite similar to these guys.
Even with the younger one being cuter....
Ok, so this story about me and my brother starts with a dollhouse. My sister Gabi complained to my dad that Ken couldn't make an honest woman out of Barbie until they had somewhere to live where their parents weren't around, so my dad got her said dollhouse.
And it was a pretty big dollhouse
So one day I was being a brat and fighting with my brother. I don't even remember what we were fighting about, but I'm sure I was trying to prove I was right (even if I knew I was wrong) and being bratty. I spent most of my childhood being a brat actually. Maybe it had something to do with being the youngest child. That, or trying to emulate my childhood hero.
So our fight escalated and I decided to end it quickly by throwing something at my brother. I happened to be standing right outside my sister's room so I decided to throw the dollhouse on top of him.
I guess that was pretty mean of me since the dollhouse was pretty huge, but I was a brat, like I said. After assaulting him with the dollhouse, I walked away, thinking I won. So my brother decided to retaliate and find something to throw at me. He grabbed the door to the dollhouse and threw it right at my head.
But come on, it was just the DOOR, I threw the whole house at him! So I said something obnoxious and ran away and was laughing and being stupid and feeling like I won this fight. I was actually moving around so much that I realized I was sweating a lot, from my head. So I put my hand through my hair and realized that it was not sweat, but blood.
My head was bleeding a lot cause the corner of the dollhouse door dug out some scalp. I basically looked like this dude (but not with brown hair on my head and blonde facial hair cause that's kind of weird).
The moral of this story?
Something about the underdog winning or size doesn't matter or maybe just that you shouldn't act like a jerk cause someone will throw a door at your head and make you bleed.