HUMOR | SHORT STORY
My MISSING Tooth
My CURMUDGEON Little Brother Won’t Give It Back!
We were just kids… I feel like I’m starting a story of aerial bombing in a war-torn country. Anyway, this is similar.
I was racing my little brother on a bike.
Inside our housing estate, there was a giant circle. If whoever owned the estate had wanted to, he or she could have organized horse races. I must bring that up next time I hear from them.
Anyway, my little brother and I had got new bikes. That is, he had gotten a new bike and I still had something that looked like it had been run over by a tank.
He challenged me to a race. Now, if any of you have seen Olympic sprints, the finish line is diagonal because the smaller circle on the inside is easier to run. He was on the inside. I didn’t realize this.
I didn’t want to let him beat me, though! The little guy had the attitude of an old army sergeant. He never laughed, never shared anything. He had the eyes of an 80-year-old man. He was 8, by the way. I was 10.
So as I was cycling on the outside circle of the road inside our estate (it surrounded a small green area) we were nearing the finish line and he was ahead of me, the little prick.
No respect for his elders. Anyway… I couldn’t afford to lose because exactly, well, nothing was on the line for this race.
If I lost, I could have always said my bike was crappier than yours.
But I didn’t. I don’t have a loser’s mentality. Just before the finish line, there was a giant turn — our estate was pretty big — and I, being on the outside, couldn't round it fast enough.
It was also downhill…
I accelerated. Obviously, as I got there I couldn’t turn my bike and I hit a curb with my wheel. I went flying off it — imagine this in slow motion — and hit a concrete wall with my teeth.
I chipped off one of my front teeth.
My little brother took it and never gave it back.
Is this child abuse? Can I call social services? Does it work when a younger, 8-year-old sibling is the abuser?
Let me know.
That’s it, have a nice day!
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