Precious Declaration

When I was around 15, my mum would visit a hairdresser in a remote corner of town, mainly because she was a friend and one of the few other "army wives" she knew. I would tag along because the hairdresser's son (A) was in my age group and was the only guy who could swear more than I did. He had lingered in unit life longer than I did and still had that edge most army brats possess. He was a little older, seemed to know everything about women, what went where and all that. We would talk about female anatomy, smoking, drinking and more female anatomy. Typical male early-teen stuff.

He had a younger brother (Z) who suffered from cerebral palsy. It seemed that their mother aged a few years between every appointment, juggling a career and a kid with special needs must have been hard. There was also vile gossip that the kid was born that way because she was adulterous/a witch and what not. A, to his credit was the most loving brother I'd ever seen. He took complete care of Z when their mother was at work, and it was really cool watching the high school "cool" kid show sensitivity.

Of course, A was no angel. On one of our visits, he was doubling up with laughter as he told me "guess what? I taught Z some cuss words, and now he says them all the time!". Z had this habit of throwing his head back and screaming random words, increasingly getting agitated until someone comforted him. Random words until recently, that is. Now, with alarming regularity, Z would start yelling "faaaakk" "baaaaastid" and so on. His parents either didn't notice on account of the bad enunciation or just ignored them - they had enough on their plate already. Somewhat inappropriate, but very funny when it happened. Like I said, typical male early teen stuff.

"Inspired" by this, I came home and taught my completely sane, yet very demented kid brother some of the nasties. The words erupted at dinner time, and it didn't take too long for boots to meet my backside.

So much so for setting an example A!