by Tom Calhoun

Created on: May 12, 2009

Growing up with five brothers, no sister was quite a challenge to say the least. Dad was always breaking up fights, and doing the dad things that only they could do. My mother was a little Italian lady and she would always say when we would get into trouble just wait until you dad gets home. That was pretty much all it took for us to straighten out.

One time my younger brother and me and a friend that was over at the time were playing with matches in the barn. We must have been maybe eleven or so and my brother was about nine. Anyway after lighting a few matches and burning some hay in the manger we got bored like boys do and decided to move on to bigger and better things. We used a pop bottle full of water to put out the flames. Figuring everything would be ok we continued to our next adventure. It just happened it was Halloween that night and we were getting ready to go out trick or treating. We had went to town to get some things for the occasion and when we returned the landlord was there hosing down the barn. It seems that we did not quite get the fire out with that one pop bottle of water and the flames shot up again. In the process of the fire rekindling the inside of the barn completely burned, not to the point of collapse mind you, but it was pretty black. Dad was not home yet, but my mother was and she said just wait until your dad gets home My backside was pretty sore for a long time, of course my younger brother denied ever being there and received a good talking to. Needless to say trick or treat that year was not happening for us, after recieving a well reflected punishment we were also grounded from trick or treating that night.

Dad treated us all pretty fairly he even though my brother lied to get out of trouble a lot, Dad was usually not that naive that he didn't know what was going on, but my brother was so convincing that, well Dad just let him get by with things. Like the time he cut the corn down trying out the new corn knife. He told Dad I told him to do it. I wasn't even there at the time, it was only later that the corn had been chopped down and became noticeable. My brother had chopped a hole into the middle of the first row of corn about 12 or 15 stocks back. He could have gone to the middle of the field and chopped and nobody would have noticed. Of course he convinced my Dad that I had told him to do it to see how well the new corn knife worked. Dad believed him so of course I am the one who got in

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