Suitcase Skiing

October 9, 2007
We raced to finish our schoolwork before the ravioli in the microwave bubbled. Another perfect spring afternoon for home schooling with your siblings. The microwave dinged, and Brian dished out the ravioli evenly into four blue plastic bowls. Although it did look as if he gave himself a tiny bit more than the rest of us. Sitting in our assigned spots at the kitchen table, we chatted away while slurping classic orange pop. After eating, we busied ourselves with endless amount of Legos spread across our basement floor.

“I want a girl Lego!” I complained. Being the only girl in the family I figured I should have a privilege of getting to use one of the few female Lego people we owned.

“Emily! You’ll get one in minute, hold on!” Drew argued. Angry, that it was taking too long for Drew to set up Legoland hand me a girl Lego, I stood up and stomped up the stairs, out of the basement, and to my room. I played with my plastic Fisher-Price time-to-cook kitchen. I was flipping pancakes, when Philip walked in and insisted

“Emily, come here! This is going to be really funny!”

Curious, I turned off my “stove” and followed Philip out the door to find Drew plopped down in an unzipped suitcase, and Brian with a strong grip on the leathery blue handle. They were at the edge of the staircase, about to ka-plunk and bump down the stairs.

“Ready? Set? Go!” Giggling and smiling, Brian took a huge step, skipping two stairs. He galloped down the rest, still holding onto the handle. Drew, being hysterical after the suitcase ride, complained that his bottom hurt. Bursts of laughter came from all four of us.

“That was great! Lemme try!” Philip begged eagerly. Brian brought the suitcase up the stairs and repeated history with Philip in the bag instead. Again, we belly laughed until we cried.

“Whatta bout’ me? Can I try?” I used my secret weapon: teary eyes. I was the youngest, and it was simple to get my way.

“We don’t want you to get hurt.” My brothers answered. My face crinkled in sadness and I slowly dragged my feet off to my room.

“Wait, Emily, you can do this, as long as you promise not to tell Mom, got it?” I had succeeded in changing their minds. My face lit up with joy.

“You got it!” I climbed into the old suitcase. Brian told me to curl up in a ball and tuck in my head. I agreed and did as he said. He zipped up the suitcase, but left a small peep hole for me to breath. This made me nervous, but I would do anything to hang out with my older brothers, even for a little while.

It was dark and stinky. I couldn’t see anything but the light glistening off of the metal zipper. My palms started to sweat and my heart beat faster as the seconds drew on. I heard muffled voices mumble something that I couldn’t understand. Before I could reply, my legs dipped down and hit something hard. My head soon followed. This repeated over and over again, banging my legs, then my head, my legs, then my head. It felt like being the heaviest on a teeter-totter and slamming down on the ground. Suddenly, I stopped. I relaxed thinking about how amusing this must look from outside the suitcase. It wasn’t over! I felt a tug, and the suitcase was being swung around and around in circles. I was being lifted up and down, turned to right and left. Finally the bag came to a halt and the zipper opened. My eyes were blinded by the bright light of the ceiling fan. My brothers helped me up and out of the suitcase just as my mother came stomping down the stairs.

“What in the world is going on here? Did I give you permission to use that suitcase?” Frozen, we all looked at each other, and held in our giggles. My mom stood there angry, but I could tell she was holding in laughter, too.

“Please don’t tell me that you zipped up your sister in there.” A smiled coiled on her face. She quietly snickered to herself and we chuckled too.

“I’m not even going to ask anymore, just hand over the suitcase.”

With full smiles on our faces, we skipped back to Brian’s room for some more Legoland adventures.

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