My grandma was probably pretty much a saint. I say that because she had 5 kids, 4 of them boys and onery ones at that. She lost her husband when my dad, the baby, was only 4. So living out in the country she raised 5 kids. I cannot even imagine doing that, but then I hear the stories and I wonder if there is a special place in heaven for mothers of many.
I have heard stories of fights, jail, football rivalries, swimming lessons in the middle of a pond, cats and gasoline (don't even ask), and brotherly love. People come up to me all the time with a new story about my dad. And at holidays we all love to sit around and listen to the stories of the brothers. It is especially entertaining after a few beers and when they are all there to help each other tell their side of the story.
My grandma always used to say, "I shoulda wrote a book." And oh how I would love it. I can't even imagine how funny it would be if all the Olinger boys got together and wrote down their take on childhood. Unfortunately, one is missing and I doubt any of them are too interested in typing but maybe one day all the grandkids will get together and write down the hilarious anecdotes of 5 crazy kids who onery, beer drinking, and loveable. Oh and the best seller it would be!