As the aunts, grandmothers and mama quietly sat on the porch, drinking coffee, my cousin Timothy and I were busy with a game of Cowboys and Indians in Grandma Polly's yard. I was the best tree climber of all the cousins, so I had perched myself high up in one of Grandma's Tung Nut trees. Timothy looked up in the tree and shouted, "When I shoot you, you're dead!" "Okay," I replied. Then pointing his finger straight at me, "Bang!" he screamed. Obediently and right on cue, I let go of the tree branch, going limp as a dead person should, and fell out of the tree, splat, onto the ground. The fall knocked me unconscious. Hearing Timothy's scream as I hit the ground, the ladies rushed out to the place where I had fallen, to see what Timothy had done to me. When asked, he simply said, "I shot her." Well, with that, the ladies became hysterical, yelling and screaming at Timothy! "What did you shoot her with? Where did it hit her?"
Believing for a second that his finger had been really loaded, Tim looked at his finger, showing it to the women and said, "my finger." And seeing that I was regaining life, they started laughing uncontrollably when they realized what had really happened.
Timothy and I went on to play, and this time, I was a nurse, giving him a shot, just because he had shot me earlier, I took one of Grandma's big thorns off her oldest rose bush and gave him a stick with it in his arm. He ran to the ladies, immediately, crying, "she gave me a shot!" When I showed them the thorn I had stuck in his arm, I got in trouble! Proving, you can never trust boys!
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