Not My Circus, Not My Monkey
I am #5 of 6 kids and I use the term "kids" loosely. My oldest sister is 63 and my younger brother is 51. We are a tight knit group except for one. My brother John, who is 55, has been the black sheep since day one. He has been in and out of our lives and when he is in, it is usually difficult or strained at best. Our mom instilled inside of each of us an intense loyalty. She never verbalized it but it is there just the same. All four of us girls are very close and we adore our "baby" brother. And even though we love him, John is another story. He was the one that ran with the "bad" crowd in school. He was the one that my teachers would scowl about when they heard my last name on the first day of school. He and my mom were escorted by a police officer to sign him up for the military before he came of age....it was that or juvie. Thinned skinned and negative, he has lived with nearly every one of us for a period of time, here and there. Because...