So....now that I am jobless, I have some time on my hands. As a professional, most of my work experience was in writing...technical and marketing copy. I am actually really good at it. (I know, I am even surprised...)

I was asked recently for some writing samples for a contract writing job and I could only find boring technical stuff to submit, so I think it must be time to update my writing samples. To that end, I am going to start doing writing prompts to get the juices flowing...and YOU guys are the lucky beneficiaries!

Here is my first one...I like to call it: "I Am SUCH a Good Big Sister...(just ask Derrick, the other two might disagree)".

Writing Prompt: Write about your earliest memory.

My earliest memory involves my biggest fear…ants. You read it correctly, ants. Any type scares me; black, red, large, small. I am no discerner of ants. I hate them all equally.

I remember it like it happened yesterday. We lived in Texas. Hot, humid, sticky, anty. I took my bigwheel in big, looping strides to stay away from the large cone-shaped mounds that pulsated with life. The top always overflowing with red, biting ants that were too busy with their work to notice a little red-head that peed her pants a little every time one would break rank and venture her way.

You can imagine my fear as my younger brother Jon walked over to a mound in an act of defiance. My mom had earlier told him to stay away from the mounds. I believe she called them “cones of red terror”. I am sure she was half talking about my brother. His red hair and demeanor also made him a “cone of red terror”. He spent his mornings killing cockroaches with his thumb, then trying to slime their juices on me. I always ran with tears running down my face. Not to say I didn’t deserve it. I spent every afternoon telling him how yummy cat food was and hoping that one day he would eat the neighbors cat food. It worked. He ate the cat food, got diarrhea, best day of my life.

Anywho, back to the story. Jon would not be dissuaded by Mom’s warning. He walked ever so slowly to the mound, examining its streams of enticing red lines flowing from its top. It looked like a volcano, ready to erupt at any moment. Then he did it. He sat right down on top of it.

Time stood still. I screamed a solitary scream that hung in the sticky air. And then I ran.

Straight to the 1979 station wagon with fake wood paneling. I jumped inside and shut the door. What I witnessed next will be imprinted on my memory for eternity; my brother covered in ants and running to the car. I had to think fast, do I help my brother and easily become embroiled in his drama, (meaning ants on me), or do I run and save myself. Easy choice; I rolled up the window and locked the door. He banged on the window and cried out for help. I could only see red. I could offer no help.

As my mom heard his screams, she ran out and starting ripping off his clothes to get the ants that were underneath. She then swatted them all off and showered Jon with a hose.

And then it happened. I laughed until I cried, and then I laughed some more. I stopped laughing when I saw Jon in the tub with red bite marks on his body. But only until I was out of earshot, then I laughed some more.

I am SUCH a good big sister….just ask Jon.

(Names and places were NOT changed to protect identities).