Few things in life are as joyous as sitting on the floor with the TV blaring, watching your brother tuck into a plate of pomegranates, grabbing a fistful and then promptly squeezing them onto his face before dissolving into hysterical laughter. He sits there with juice dripping down his cheek and–having decided to ignore my annoying buzzing and assuming it’ll just go away–bites into another pomegranate seed.
Kid #3 looked at me weird as I lay on the floor giggling shamelessly over something no one else found funny. I don’t know why the situation was that humorous. Kid #4 (the boy, that is) is 5. Surely there are far more clever pranks a sixteen year old could come up with when faced with such a seemingly puny adversary.
I’m an annoying sister. I squeeze seed after seed into his face and he sits there patiently waiting for me to stop so he can once again pay attention to the cartoon. I’m a puddle of maniacal laughter while he indulgently looks on, straight-faced and slightly confused. ‘You’re wasting food’, he quietly chides. But even that sensible protest doesn’t stop me. Squit! And another seed reduced to red splatter; squit–another one just below his eye. He blinks and looks at me bewildered, unable to comprehend why I’m even doing this while I wipe away the tears of silent, uncontrollable laughter. Eventually I get distracted by some shiny object and he is left in peace.
Minutes later, I’m on the laptop; my neck hurts and I look up for a second. Squit! Right in my eye. A few drops dripping onto the notes beside me. Squit! Sticky juice sliding down my neck, and I’m too stunned to react.
He smiles a shy, wise smile free of all mischievous glee and then turns and goes to the kitchen to put the plate in the sink, having avenged his precious snack time which had been butchered by the juvenile antics of his eldest sister who, as common sense tells him, should know better than to go around squirting fruit juice on to unsuspecting little humans. He comes back into the room and is immediately met with a cap full of water aimed straight at his shirt. Looking at the once again giggling culprit he contemplates responding in like. Aware it would be up to him to manage it if things escalate, he sighs and decides to spend the evening with his much saner mother.
I really should find better things to do with my time.