I am the youngest of three. I have two older brothers: Justin and Andrew. Pretty much what that translates to is a childhood filled with bloody pranks, fist-fights, and action movies. Not that I'm complaining. In fact, I'm pretty sure my older brothers are responsible for how awesome I am. And for making it easier to tell that I like girls (Again. Bloody pranks, fist-fights, action movies... kind of queer).
Justin is the oldest, and I think, the most badass of us all. He has one fake leg and one real one. Read that sentence again, it's construction is hilarious. He was born with Fibular Hemimelia. I could go into detail on what that means, I even did a project on it in 7th grade and got a 102%, but that's a lot of information. Basically, he either needed his foot chopped off or limb-lengthening. Limb-lengthening sucks big time. Imagine breaking your leg. Then imagine breaking it further apart, centimeter by centimeter, every couple of hours, every day, for months. Yeah, limb-lengthening is a bitch.
I am extremely jealous of Justin and his fake-leg awesomeness. Some people see it as a handicap. To them I say, fuck you, my brother's part cyborg! I'm also kind of a Trekkie, which makes that reference all the more awesome. But I was always fascinated with his leg. When I was little and he was smaller (and little as well, obviously), he had a wooden leg. Not like "Yarr Arrrggh" wooden-peg (though his nickname is Pegleg) but just a leg made out of wood. When he wasn't wearing it, or he got a new one and left the old one somewhere, I'd shove my right foot into it and limp around the house. You might say that's really messed up, but, like I said, my brother is part cyborg and thus infinitely cooler than I will ever be.
Fun fact: my brother has all the legs he's ever had. How many people do you know who can say that? Another fun fact: One time my father sent me to my room because we were watching the Fugitive and during the part where Harrison chases the guy through the prosthetic factory I got grossed out. My dad said it was "rude, and hurtful to Justin." My response? "Um... Justin doesn't hang all of his limbs from the ceiling, you fucking asshole." Okay, that was false, I didn't call him a "fucking asshole." I was four. I didn't know those words yet.
Lots of cool shit happens to a person when they have one leg. Again, something that I'm jealous of. For instance, in two different occasions while playing soccer, Justin has kicked off part or all of his leg. One time the foot was spinning around and around. Another time he kicked his leg full off and it flew down the field. I wish I could do shit like that.
I mean, there are the pitfalls. Like asshole teachers who give a kid who plays on a club soccer team a B+ in SPORTS just because he has a fake leg and saying something like "he will never play varsity." But I'm pretty sure having a fake leg is much cooler than a jerk with bad teeth.
Justin's leg now has a titanium rotating ankle that lets him play golf. It weighs like ten pounds. I wish I had a titanium rotating ankle instead of this piece-of-shit real thing. Yes, I'm dead serious. I think my brother is the coolest person in the world. Pretty much the Million Dollar Man. Only real, and related to me.
My other brother, Andrew, is the middle child. That should explain a lot. It does. You know, the whole "middle-child" syndrome, where they aren't cool enough to be the oldest but not young enough to be the baby. Kind of like when you're a sophomore in high school. You're not important enough to be an upperclassmen but you're not new enough to be a freshman. No one cares about you when you're a sophomore. Except, obviously, our parents cared a lot about him. It's just he wasn't the baby and couldn't get away with shit like I could, and he wasn't the oldest so he couldn't boss around both of us. Andrew handled it awesomely, I think. And I'm pretty positive he's way smarter than I will ever be. He's also freakishly pale. I'm not jealous of that part, I just think it's funny since we're all a little black.
So of course I got teased, bullied, tickled, made fun of, threatened, and grossed out. But I love those stinkin' kids more than they know, and I'm jealous of them in ways you can't imagine. Well, I guess you can, since I just outlined them for you. Let me reiterate: I wish I had a fake leg and was part cyborg, and I wish I were smarter--but not paler. It's funny, because Justin's the darkest, Andrew is the lightest, and I don't tan. But I don't burn, either. I just get really warm in the sun. Andrew and I got the short end of the mixed-stick. And neither of us is part cyborg.
Justin's such a lucky bastard.
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