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Being the only girl in the midst of five brothers has its challenges - for me as well as for them. There are always sibling rivalries and 
squabbles. I tended to shy away from any real confrontations. I knew I couldn't win. I do stupid things, but I'm not stupid.
Coming from a large family and living on the farm, we seldom acquired anything brand new; nearly new was almost as good. So it was with a new
grain elevator dad purchased. Nearly new, it was delivered and parked next to the granary - out of sight, but safe from the traffic of tractors
or trucks. My dad was very proud of the shiny new purchase and wanted to protect it. The rest of us paid little attention to this marvelous
acquisition.
Sometimes, in the heat of summer, there was not much to do and brothers being brothers would taunt and tease, just to get a reaction from me. One of their favorites was to call me a "daddy's girl". They said I was his favorite. I guess I was supposed to resent them saying this; but remember, I'm not stupid. 
There are great benefits to being a "daddy's girl"; I would argue and protest, anyway. Smugly, I knew what I was
doing. To their delight, they got the reaction they were looking for.
One day, late in August, the air was heavy, the weather hot, and the general temperament seemed even hotter. My younger brother (three years to the day, to be exact) initiated a confrontation and a chase ensued. I can only assume HE started IT, whatever IT was, but around and around he chased me. I didn't know what he would do if he caught me, but I envisioned I would be pummeled, maimed, bruised and otherwise disfigured in some way. So... around the machine shed, past the chicken coop, through the yard and around the granary we ran. 
I was getting tired of this... he seemed to picking up steam. I was looking for shelter - a safe haven of any kind, just to get away. The other
siblings weren't interested in rescuing "daddy's girl". He was coming closer. Then, lo and behold! I saw my salvation. Of course, the elevator!
I dashed up the carrier and smugly looked down at him. He couldn't touch me. I was finally safe! Then, he did the stupid, the unthinkable, and
the unfathomable. He started up the elevator after me. I looked down; I didn't want to jump. I looked up; I'm afraid of heights. He was closing in.
I had no place to go. As he closed in, the elevator became top heavy and began to dip. The closer he came, the more it dipped until the shiny metal
chute slammed to the ground. Oh! Oh!
I was horrified. I panicked and jumped off the side to the ground below. With a resounding and deafening thud, the bottom of the elevator slammed to the ground. We both stopped in our tracks. "Look what YOU did", he threatened. What I did? As far as I was concerned, I was innocent - if notcompletely, at least mostly. We surveyed the damages. The chute, so smooth and shiny at the top was now dented; pretty badly, in fact. The bottom had been slammed to the ground. Who knew what damage it incurred. This was dad's new purchase. He only had it a couple of days and had not even used it once. It was his pride and joy. What were we to do? We each went our separate ways, contemplating our punishment, knowing full well that there would be hell to pay when dad found out. 
Little did I know that little brother, feeling guilty, seeking vindication, exhibiting remorse, told dad what I had done. Dad was furious! Little brother was off the hook. Me? Not so much. I don't ever recall being singled out or punished by my father, but this? I sort of hid out - the out of sight, out of mind philosophy. Dad came looking for me and encountered mother. She was the recipient of his wrath of fury, hearing the whole story as related to dad by little brother. When the smoke had cleared, I slowly began to reappear - this time close to mother. She was not happy that dad was not happy and it all appeared to be my fault. Never mind that none of this would have happened if little brother had not followed me up the elevator. Mother ordered me to my room - I had never, ever been sent to my room before. This was serious. In retrospect, I think it was for my own protection. What was I supposed to do in my room? No TV, no radio, no toys or games, no books. Would they bring me food - or water? Yes, I went to my room. I stayed there for awhile. It was boring. Then, under the guise of needing to go to the bathroom, I slowly made my way down the stairs. Mother could not believe I would be so bold. What if dad saw me? 
Like a whipped puppy, I slowly and cautiously assimilated back into the family and a normal routine. Dad never did say anything to me about the incident.
He didn't have to. I was, after all, daddy's girl. With that comes some real benefits, but there are also unspoken obligations and understandings.
Now, little brother, on the other hand, still reminds me of the incident and is proud of how he "told" and got off scot-free, while I shouldered the blame. He still points, snickers and laughs about it. I learned my lesson. I do stupid things, but I'm not stupid. I am much more calculating now... about whom I lead and where I lead them.
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