Fangs alot sis

A while ago I had posted a story about my lovely sister Fang. Although there was a huge age difference between us as children we both are grown adults now with kids of our own and get some laughs out of the old days. Water under the bridge and fodder for the Blog.

Recap - Fang was a tattle tale, tag along young sister who always seemed to be getting her self into situations by messing with me at the wrong place and time.

Why do I call her Fang. From about the age of 5 she started to develop these lovely pearly white incisors that hung a little bit over her lip. She had a bit of an overbit that was later corrected with expensive dentistry to create the most beautiful smile but at the time in my impatience with her and the need to label she was simply Fang. I knew she hated it and it was delicious.

For the record I have and still do HATE dolls. They creep me way out with their beedy little blinky eyes and the way the follow you with their eyes no matter where you are in the room. This is before Chucky but chills go up my spine none the less.

For Christmas one year my sister got a Cabbage Patch Doll. This thing is ugly as sin but as Bloggers and readers may well remember the need to get a Cabbage Patch Doll created riots among perfectly nice housewifes and also a Toy Black Market for the little creatures. If you were lucky enough to have had a loved one beat off a kindly Grandma to get you that doll, you were one of the lucky ones. Many kids went without little adoption papers that Christmas. My mom and Aunt must have had a game plan and wore protective equipment to get ...ugh.... Katie at Stedmans.

Katie made her debut Christmas morning at the same time I was unwrapping my prized Back in Black AC/DC album. I could care less about her crappy doll. Ugh another one oh well lets play this little treasure and watch the parents faces. I still remember that scratchy needle sound just before the church bells started to ding. I think my mother might have said oh choir music how lovely before her jaw dropped to Hells Bells. Priceless. Okay back to Katie.

This thing had brown yarn hair and an overbite that far surpassed Fangs. No teeth showing though. The difference between all the other dolls and this one though is that Katie developed a personality. She "talked" through my sister in a really whiny snitty voice. And Katie.... like to talk to Auntie RLHCopper... a Lot.

I put up with that little demon spawn all winter.... all spring.... all summer in the boat and at the cottage.... but ....somewhere on the Interstate I75 on the way to Florida that late Fall I had had enough of Katie yapping on and on about 'anything' in that voice.

I don't know how my parents tolerated that 'talking' doll at that time and to this day I think they secretly thanked me for what I did next.

Katie kept talking to me. She kept nudging over on to my side of the car. That little arm rest that went down in our 77 Tornado was supposed to be a clear dividing line about space but no - Katie did not have space issues. She created space issues. Very calmly and I think this might have been Tennessee or Kentucky because we were in the mountains, I started to press the button to bring the window down. It was locked.

Dad can you give me some air... I feel sick. Dad who was used to me feeling and ... getting sick was quick to unlock the power windows from the front and let me bring the window down.

In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Houston we have lift off... I grabbed Katie from my sister and threw her out of the window in a beautiful arch that landed her right in the meridian of 8 lane traffic. It was worth the punishment I got. It was delicious in those moments to watch Katie fly across traffic, doging cars and trucks and my sister was....silent.

That my friend is American Beauty - not a shopping bag in floating on air current. Nope its an ugly talking Cabbage Patch Doll going for her first flight.

Dad pulled over and my poor mother had to dodge traffic to get Katie back. Katie however did not come back into the car. Instead she went into the trunk. Katie was only allowed out at bedtime and she had to be quiet.

I lost my Walkman.... oh well. I lost my soap opera privlidges -oh well I found out from Friends about Roman and Marlena's wedding (the first one back in 1982 or so.... I had beach time,,,, and no Katie.