Okay...my sister will either laugh her head off, or kill me! I think she will laugh. I mentioned to her that I wanted to post this story, but I don't know if she forgot. So here goes...
My sister and I spent most of our lives in Barry, Texas, about 5 miles from the Corsicana city limits. Barry is a community of about 125 people. We still attended Corsicana schools, but our mailing address was Barry. We lived in the middle of nowhere on Farm to Market road 1126.
From the time my sister was born, she was into everything! My mom has a picture of my sister in a walker pulling a plant down on her head. Those things were the norm with Britt. As I said in the paragraph above, we lived in a small community. This means that Brittany was bored almost all of the time! I was an avid reader and a true introvert. Not to mention, I was not outdoorsy. Brittany had virtually no one to play with. She was outside making mud pies and freezing them while I was indoors reading a book. It is a textbook case of opposite siblings.
One day, my sister was outside playing when she came across a can of maroon spray paint. My dad had been spray painting some signs for his business (L&M Trucking) and had discarded the used cans by our back porch. He didn't think anything of it. Well, this was a treasure to my bored sister!!
Brittany took the can and spray painted a line of maroon paint on the back of our house, eye level. She also took the time to "experiment" with our dog, Sissy. Sissy was an overweight, Australian Shepherd. She was probably about 7 years old when all this happened. Brittany painted a huge maroon splotch on Sissy's coat. Poor dog! By the time it was all said and done, Britt had painted the house, the dog, my father's blue pickup, and the air conditioning unit.
When my parents surveyed the damage, Britt had already cleaned her hands and was on to the next activity. My parents first confronted me. "Brooke, did you spray paint all this?" My first instinct was to crumble and cry!! How dare they even assume that I would do something like that? All they had to do was look at me the wrong way and I would cry. They knew it wasn't me.
"Britt, did you do this?" Britt looked them straight in the eye, "Nope." They asked her several more times and the answer was always, "no." I think my parents really were confounded for a few minutes. They knew it wasn't me because I had started crying immediately and Brittany was looking them in the eye declaring that it wasn't her either. Then my dad remembered Brittany running to the bathroom a few hours earlier with red speckles all over her hands. He put two and two together and figured out what had happened. At the time, he just thought Britt had gotten into an ant bed, but then he realized that she had found his spray paint!
He asked her several more times. She still answered, "no." (Man, she is tough! She should have pursued a career in the FBI! No one can break this girl!!) My father realized that he was going to have to get more psychological with her. "Brittany, are you Dad's spray painting girl?" Her answer: "Yep!" (with a grin and a nod of the head) :)
The Mystery of the Painted Dog was finally solved! My dad laughed and hugged her. I think he was just so glad that he was smart enough to outsmart her. She got out of a spanking for that one, but we all learned a valuable lesson: there always needs to be an eye-witness with Brittany!
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