"Wait until you’re hurt before you start to cry."
My sister told my mom a story once, I was eavesdropping, or at least in the same room. This is how I remember it.
My sister said kids were playing kickball (Elementary school) and the biggest kid in the class blasted her in the face with the ball.
BLAMO! Blood, teeth and an eyeball went flying...not really.
She shook it off and was fine, because that's what real people do.
Later in the game the same kid blasted some other girl in the thigh and she started crying and people came and showered her with affection.
My sister was confused.
(I'm sure my sister is rolling her eyes right about now because I recounted her tale of heroine-ism wrong)
I like helping people when they need help. What I hate is getting in trouble when someone could easily help themselves but they want me to help because I have a weeny and I didn't offer to help carry the single ply Kleenex down the stairs.
Humans are so much tougher than we give them credit for. That girl didn't have to cry but she did. My sister didn't have to cry (she could have and been showered with affection) but she didn't. Because she wasn't actually hurt.
Maybe I'm lazy.
Or maybe my sisters are freaks and wouldn't cry if you shot them in the kneecap with a nail gun dipped in Tabasco sauce and salt.
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