My Dad is picking us up and driving us to Tennessee tomorrow. This post is a collection of funny stories from our week here in Iowa, most of which involve my brother and I partaking in random activities. It's kind of long. It should probably be broken up into several posts, but I'm not doing that. Feel free to comment on any part of it :P
I was at dinner with all of the extended family the other night. I was sitting across from my brother and next to my aunt. We went to one of those buffet places. You know, where they have chocolate milk on tap. Oh. That stuff. It gets me every time.
'Nyways, my brother suddenly says "Elisabeth, look at that chick behind you!" Now, my brother and I are people watchers and it is not at all uncommon for us to point wierdos out to each other. So turn to look. But I don't see anyone interesting at all. I look back a Rainor who is munching on a roll and and ask "What?" My aunt and uncle start laughing like crazy and I can't figure out what's going on. So I turn to look again, then look back and them with a puzzled expression. My aunt filled me in; "He stole your roll, you dork!"
Later that same evening, after dinner, we all went ice skating. I'm not too bad when it comes to this. I'm no mighty duck, but I'm ok. The whole time I did pretty well and didn't fall down once. But then my brother decided to dare me to skate backwards. He said if I made it around the rink backwards in under a minute he'd buy me a latte. Unfortunately, I'm the type that doesn't turn down dares. And I love lattes. But mostly I don't turn down dares.
I started out pretty well. I made it about a quarter of the way around when I started to get frustrated with myself for not being very coordinated. Just then, my other brother saw fit to hit me on the shoulder as he skated pass and next thing I knew... I was down. The logical thing was to get up. But... I couldn't. At this point I begin to laugh. Rainor came over and grabbed my arm but still, nothing doing. I laughed harder. Christa came and grabbed my other arm. No luck. At this point, if it was physically possible for me to get up, I couldn't because I was laughing so hard. I'm flat on my back, on the ice, freezing, laughing hysterically.
It was that this moment that Rainor realized the position he had me in. He bent over, grabbed the blade of my skate, and started to drag me around the rink. Yeah. It was enormously dignified. And I couldn't do jack squat about it. Grabbing at the ice, it does nothing, in case you're wondering. Also... warm bodies make ice melt. So. My pants are now totally soaked and my hair is full of ice shavings. Yet, my brother continues to find great enjoyment in dragging me across the ice.
At long last, when I can stop laughing long enough to unleash a string of threats, both of my brothers are able to pull me up enough so I can get to my feet. And so ends my ice skating adventures. There was no latte, sadly. However, my brother did buy me a pretty red scarf. It was almost worth the humiliation of being drug around the rink like a neanderthal.
On Sunday Rainor and I took off to go the PCA church in our area, here in Iowa City. I went to this same church when I was visiting here last time and I liked it alot. This time the rest of my siblings were with me, but only Rainor wanted to come with me. We're the good children.
Their order of service was pretty much like ours, except they had announcements in the middle... which was strange because it seemed like it interrupted the flow of the service. It was really weird to be singing hymns, reading responsively, then suddenly talk about the coat drive, then go straight to the Bible reading. But other than that, it was great. They were ordaining and receiving and elder that morning, which I had never seen before, despite the fact that I have gone to church nearly every Sunday of my life. Also there was a very interesting sermon about how God raises up deacons, elders, and pastors for the church.
Afterwards my brother and I went to lunch at Bennigan's, an Irish grill/tavern. And my brother actually told me that he was glad to be seen with me... which is pretty much the greatest complement that he has ever paid me. Might sound silly, but if you knew my brother, you would understand why this is such a big deal.
This morning my dear brother came into my room and plopped down on my bed, waking me from a dead sleep. I had been up till 2:30 that morning... I uttered the four words that always escape my lips when he wakes me up in the morning. "What time is it?" "8:30" "A.M.?" "Uh, duh." "Go away, I never want to see you again. Ever." "I just wondered if you wanted to go shopping. I kinda want to go to the mall." I was then forced to open my eyes to see if it was indeed my brother sitting beside me. It was. Suddenly getting up didn't seem so awful after all.
I don't' think I would be exaggerating to say that my brother is probably my best friend. So his recent turn for shopping has made me VERY happy. Shopping for clothes with him is especially great, because he looks at what I try on and tells me if he thinks it fits nice and whether he thinks it's too tight etc... A guy's opinion on these things is always much appreciated on my end. And as he's color blind, he likes for me to tell him whether things he's trying on are pink or not.
Today's shopping mission; find a pair of jeans for both of us. No, not to share. One for him, and one for me. Sheesh, people. The art of shopping for jeans is a fine one and one in which there is no compromise. Rainor and I are both in love with our own favorite brands. He's a Levi's kind of guy and I can never find anything I like that isn't Vanity (A brand name which always seems to put things in perspective for me when buying clothing...).
The hunt begins! Well, actually, first we stop to look at video games at Best Buy. THEN the hunt begins. Well, we also stopped at a shop that had all sorts of cool stuff and Rainor bought a Guy Fawke's mask. It's awesome! But I digress. THEN the hunt begins. We go to Vanity and I try on four pairs of jeans. Each time I come out for him to see and he tells me what he thinks. I but the pair that he and I both like. Then we go to Sears were the process is repeated for my brother. We leave happy. Shopping success!
This afternoon my brother and I took my 3 yr. old cousin out to throw the football around in the backyard. It was really cold out and I neglected to bring anything better than a light jacket, so Rainor loaned me his. We played with an NFL sized ball, rather than the smaller one we usually play with and I decided it is DEFINITELY easier to play with a bigger ball. I could throw farther and better, and my catching improved too. Plus, because it was so cold, my fingers went numb, which was nice, because you don't feel the finger jams so much. Shame the Colts lost tonight.
Today my cousin, who is 14, had the brilliant idea to look up hockey fights on youtube. So my two brothers and I stood around the computer for about 30 minutes doing nothing but watching hockey players beat the living snot out of each other. It was strangely mesmerizing. I felt like a roman looking on as gladiators met their bloody and brutal deaths in the Colosseum.
I've always thought the whole hockey things was pretty silly, honestly. Well, not the game, just the whole fight mentality surrounding the sport. I have concluded that hockey players tend to be really attractive... but I'm not sure they're all that bright.
As we're standing around, Rainor says "Elisabeth, will you make me some popcorn." "I think grandma has some microwave popcorn in the cabinet." "I don't know how to work her microwave." "Uh... push the pop corn button." "Seriously?" "Yes." "Awesome!" Occasionally I wonder, where would he be without me?