Girls among Boys

Me and my brother, Matt

My son fell through the garage attic onto the concrete floor last night.  Although simply searching for a fishing pole, he quickly found out that this structure made for storage couldn't handle the weight of his body.  As he showed me the resulting bumps and bruises, he was a bit shocked that my response wasn't one of sympathy and dismay.  Instead I answered, "Yea, I had that happen to me once".  Flashbacks of a personal experience from my distant past came back into short term memory.  My best friend, Bev Van Dam, and I had taken a similar plunge.  Our demise was also a direct result of a miscalculation of board strength (fortunately neither of us pursued careers as engineers).  The crime scene was Bev's dad's detached garage.  Living just a short walk from each other, childhood was an adventure and Bev and I were willing participants. 

My 8th birthday ~ Bev in the back and my brothers to the right

We met through the friendship of our brothers at the ripe age of three.   I met Bev through her older brother, Rich.  He and my brother, Matt, (a VERY likely pair) became instant friends in kindergarten.  One day Rich brought over his little sister to play with me.  On that day, I remember seeing a chair fly down the stairs and then Bev and I looking at each other in dismay as my mom couldn't figure out who was the culprit, Matt or Rich.  Let's just say that there are boys who think about doing naughty things and then there are those who do them.  Matt and Rich preferred to do them.  Music boxes were taken apart, doll hair shaved to the stub, and lots toys filled with water and dirt.  Life was an experiment in their eyes.  And Bev and I were guilty of watching them perform their dastardly deeds on many occasions. We were nothing short of accomplices watching Rich and Matt try different methods of derailing a train; a penny, a spoon, sun tan lotion.  Fortunately none of them worked.  On one ill-fated occasion, the boys took turns covering themselves in an empty appliance box while the other threw rocks at it.  What they didn't take into consideration was the small opening where the flaps came together.  Rich quickly learned of this err in judgment as he emerged from the box with a bloody head that required stitches.

Although the commonality of being the only girls running with a neighborhood stocked full of boys was the link that bonded Bev and I from the beginning, I do have to own the fact that we involved ourselves in typical girl drama on occasion.  For a couple of short periods during our childhood, we were not friends.  The episodes were very brief, but fiercely fought.  I rack this up as yet another influence of our brothers.  A particular instance that I have to confess to is 5th grade recess when I pushed Bev into a puddle.  We were fighting.  My recollection is that she made a derogatory comment about my brother, Matt, and I was in turn being bucky.  She got me with a good verbal jab and I retaliated by pushing her into a puddle.  This unfortunately happened just as her dad was walking by the school yard on his lunch break.  Infuriated, he grabbed Bev and marched her directly to the principal's office.  I was called in and with John Van Dam glaring at me and Bev at his side, Sr. Nila insisted that I apologize.  I refused (over, and over, and over) until Sr. Nila finally turned to John and said "I don't think she is going to apologize".  Rightfully so, John stomped off and Sr. Nila scolded both of us and sent us back to class.  Bev and I made up the minute we walked out her door.  Bev forgave me quickly, but that wasn't the case with her dad.  And I certainly didn't score more points with him with our future garage episode.

A day at the farm ~ Sandy, Mark and Matt

This adventure was simply a byproduct of how we spent our idle time being children of the 70's which did not include video games or television.  Nor did we rely on our mothers to entertain us by planning out every moment of our days.  Our daily adventures were created directly from our own imaginations.  And we didn't dare tell our mothers we were bored.  The resulting event would have been chores around the house.

While enjoying the freedom of our tenth summer, either Bev or I (don't remember which) came up an idea of creating a secret hideaway.  I am sure the idea came from a book.  We once formed our own militia and marched around town after reading the book, "The Girl Who Owned the City".  So guided by the inspiration of the moment, we cased the back yard and park and ultimately deemed the enticing space at the top of the garage as perfect.  An added variable that influenced our decision was the loss of benefit of the boys' heavy lifting and building skills as we purposely chose to exclude them.  We had enough of them by that point of the summer and were excited about a spot that we could call our own with none of the collective five Wagner and Van Dam boys in our business.  This pre-built structure fit our needs perfectly; better than any traditional tree house that would require building from scratch and help from our brothers.

A bit giddy with our secret, Bev and I carefully decorated our new found space with a little table and lounging pillows. We snuck books and select toys out of Bev's house to complete our secret space.  In our estimation, it was better than any tree house built by the boys or previous forts made out of discarded refrigerator boxes.  We really felt a bit ingenious and imaginative with our refuge.  And the best part was that no one knew about it.  We would sneak in and play imaginary games that occupy the minds of children at play.  On the particular day of our misadventure, we were pretending to be the Wonder Twins, Zan and Jayna.  In this Super-friends cartoon, the twins would be able to access their super powers by touching each other with their fingers.  Bev and I were these Superheroes; plotting to save the world in the sanctuary of our Superheroes Headquarters.  As we touched our imaginary rings together and recited "Wonder Twins powers...activate", in perfect timing, the boards supporting our headquarters gave way.  It happened so fast as we both crashed onto the concrete with table and our decorative accessories spilling on top of us.  We stared at each other disbelief.  And then we laughed.  We giggled and laughed and then laughed some more.  Yep, no Wonder Twins with this duo.  Our brothers would have busted a gut knowing the series of events that had just occurred.  Of course, we never told them.  We did have to tell Bev's dad as we couldn't fix the damaged dangling boards on our own.  He was not pleased with our brilliant idea and scolded us for a misadventure that could have led to serious injury.

What John Van Dam didn't know was all the other things we did that could have led to serious injury.  And I do blame our brothers for that too.  If I could write a literal resume reflecting the life skill that has been of most value to me, it would be growing up the only girl amongst brothers.  Bev's resume is even more impressive than mine; she had three brothers to my two.  Once someone told me that I was the most resilient person they had ever met.  I took that as a compliment.  And that is a direct correlation to having brothers.  My mom added to this with her frequent recited response of "You kids need to work it out on your own".  Even with evidence of a bruised arm from knuckle punching (for serious violations like crossing the imaginary line in the back seat of the car), crying and whining only made it worse.  So I either bucked it up or fought back (or locked myself in the bathroom as a last ditch alternative).

My brothers and I enjoying a trip to the county fair

Yet although I complain (and embellish) on my abuse as the sister, I also enjoyed the benefits as well.  I am well aware that little boys turn into big boys.  Their toys get bigger, but their sense of humor and boyish weaknesses and pleasures stay the same.  It is all just packaged a bit differently.  I have had the benefit (?) of working primarily with men through adulthood.  My brothers trained me well for all the sports talk, bantering, politically inappropriate jokes, and competitiveness.  I am proud to say that I am pretty quick on my feet and can take in about any sidebar testosterone conversation without the blink of an eye or expression of reaction.  Yes, Matt and Mark, thank-you for schooling me on this.  And thanks, Bev, for being my fearless friend.  I forgive you for telling me at age five that the blue deodorizer toilet water in your bathroom would explode (I had never seen such a thing).  At least I was wearing my swimsuit when I subsequently wet my pants outside your house in fear of your toilet.  And lastly, thank-you, Rich, for still seeing me as one the boys.  It was great hanging like old times with you and my brothers at the hotel after my grandma's recent funeral.  And although I really didn't enjoy the colorful jokes you were sharing on your phone, it warmed my heart to hear "It's just, Sandy.  You can show her.  She's just one of us."  Bev and I will hang out with you guys any time.  You are actually all a lot of fun :)

Bev and I reunited in the 80's

Mark, Rich and Matt - Reunited last year
(They are reenacting the opening song to the old TV series "My Three Sons", but are missing Oka who would have typically had the role of the cat lying on the ground.  They did this funny charade as kids and would have all of us rolling in laughter)