And when I was 8 years old, I had to start taking out the garbage.
When I was 11 years old, my folks got divorced and it was just me and my mom and my 6 year old sister. I was still playing football and my bed time was 22:00.
And when I was 11 years old, I still had to take out the garbage. I also had to empty the dishwasher, and run the vacuum once a week, and a few other chores. And I had to pick up my sister after school every day and take her to football practice with me. Mom picked us both up after practice.
When there was no football, I just picked my sister up from school and we both walked home together. Latch key kids, we were.
I don't know why I thought about that last night. It's a good memory. My sis and I had our differences, every once in awhile. We had chores and we had curfew. We didn't have a lot of cash, but we had enough allowance. We could yell at each other and slam doors and hide stuff from each other.
But none of that was permanent. That was just being siblings.
The permanent stuff...the real stuff...that was every day when she ran out of her class with a big grin and traded her little book bag for my helmet so she could wear it while we walked to the practice field.
The permanent stuff...the real stuff...that was when I could hear her yelling "Go Trav" whenever I did something.
The permanent stuff...the real stuff...that was when she lugged my pads out to the car when Mom got there to drive us home.
The permanent stuff...the real stuff...that was knowing she was always in the stands yelling for me, and when she knew I was in the stands yelling for her.
The permanent stuff...the real stuff...that was when I waltzed with my sister at her wedding, and when I got my first look at the little person she made a few years later.
Nope...I can't tell you why I thought about that stuff last night. But I'm glad I did.
Reason 51: Because of the permanent stuff.
