ROUGHHOUSING BROTHERS

My older brother and I never did really “roughhouse” together; he was seven years older than me, and he really didn’t want to be around me very much. I did throw an ice pick at him one time when I was about seven years old, and that stopped whatever roughhousing we might have done. So I’ve always been fascinated in a family with lots of boys.

One great example was the Craig family in Baytown, Texas. Some of their boys were already grown when I arrived on the scene, but it was fun to get to know them. Their parents, Curtis and Corrine, were sweet Christian folks; Curtis ran a used car lot for many years in Baytown. The fun thing was that every child in the family had a name that began with the letter R. The one girl was Robin followed by Robert, Rickey, Rodney, Randy, Reggie, and Rusty. You’ve already probably figured out that they were probably a pretty tough bunch; I imagine they did a lot of roughhousing over the years.

I remember playing racquetball with Randy and Reggie one day; they were on the same team in a doubles match. You must realize that doubles in racquetball can be very dangerous because there is a great chance that someone on the court will be hit on the backside with the ball. It happens accidentally most of the time, that is, unless you’re one of the Craig brothers. I will never forget when Randy hit Reggie, rather intentionally. Reggie was a tough guy; he was a football receiver for the Arkansas Razorbacks and later the Kansas City Chiefs. When tears came to his eyes, he wanted to attack Randy, but they just laughed and went on trying to hit each other. It didn’t take me long to excuse myself from the game; Reggie already had a large whelp on his back, and I didn’t want one.

I remember the time when Rusty, the youngest of the family, took a fast swim through some of the drainage pipes and into a nearby creek. Several children were playing, and Rusty just disappeared with all the children screaming and crying. It wasn’t long until he was found about a block away hanging onto a tree limb on a creek bank. He said that he had been practicing earlier that week on how to hold his breath, and when he fell into the drainage pipe, he just held his breath. He was a little bruised and bumped, but he just seemed to enjoy the exciting trip through the water. Everyone else thanked the Lord that Rusty was alive.

That’s what family is all about; it’s learning how to roughhouse together and yet come out on the other end with a smile and joy on our face.