Anytime my brothers and I get together, our conversation inevitably gravitates back to the shenanigans we used to get into as kids growing up in the WVC. We grew up on the street that seemed to have more than its share of kids participating in shenanigans. My brothers and I were best friends with the Riggs kids down the street, and together we were the ringleaders of shenanigans. An entire book could be written, but I'll focus this post on one story.
Church had just let out, and we were walking down the hallway, literally bouncing off the walls. It was me on the left, my older brother in the middle, and then Boogie (the youngest of the Riggs kids) on the right.
I digress: I'm sure you're thinking I'm using the name "Boogie" to protect the innocent. However, the kid's parents started calling him "Boogie" instead of his real name when he first started walking because he looked like he was "Boogieing." What kid doesn't look like he's boogieing when he starts walking? I have it on good authority that people still call him "Boogie" to this day, even though he's got to be pushing 30. He was a good kid. The moral? Be careful what nicknames you give your kids.
My older brother has always been quick on his feet. Especially when it comes to shenanigans. We were approaching the primary room, which had an open door so we could hear all of the primary kids singing "Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam", or something similar. My brother couldn't help himself.
As soon as we reached the door (which was on Boogie's side), my brother suddenly shoved Boogie through the the primary room door with all of his might. Boogie flew into the primary room and before Boogie knew what hit him, he crashed down right between the Sunbeams and the primary singing leader (bless her heart). The piano player stopped playing. The kids stopped singing. The singing leader was speechless.
The only person who knew how to react was my brother. He slammed the door. And instead of running away like most kids would have done, he ran up to the door, jammed it with his foot and leaned up against it.
5 seconds later, we heard someone running across the primary room. Then the doorknob turned and someone was pushing on the other side. And then we heard pobrecito Boogie screaming and shouting and pounding on the door.
After 10-15 seconds of this, it really was time to start running. My brother and I took off down the hall and I don't think we stopped running till we were safe and sound in our bedroom.
I can still picture Boogie wailing on that door in the primary room. I'm just lucky that Boogie moved away when I was 12, because a few years later and I'm sure he could have been wailing on me without much problem.