A Lesson in Following the Rules

I am seventeen on this day and have just come home from Europe. My yellow-walled bedroom is packed tight with suitcases, dirty clothes, and souvenirs. Jet lag taking its toll, I have just woken from a 19 hour slumber and my mom is already on me to get my dirty clothes to the utility room. (Normal families refer to this as a "laundry" room, I believe.)

I am seventeen and my little brother is thirteen and in his excitement to welcome me home and hear about my trip (and receive his souvenir), he throws open my bedroom door and yells, "WELCOME BACK!"

This is a mistake.

We have a few understood and rarely broken rules in the Whitaker household:
1. Answer the phone, "Hello, this is the Whitaker residence."
2. Milk with at least one meal of the day.
3. Always knock before entering a closed-door room.

My brother and I both suffer a tremendous dose of embarrassment as he breaks rule 3. I have just dropped my towel and am digging through my suitcase for a clean anything-to-wear when I look up to see the horror stricken face of my little brother. I scream. I scream like I have never screamed before. I scream as though a serial killer has entered my bedroom with a meat cleaver. He shuts the door - fast. I hear him race down the hall - fast. I get dressed in dirty clothes - fast.

This all happens very quickly, but moments like those seem to go on forever. It's exactly like the movies:
ALECIA: (in drawn-out high screechy voice and slow motion ) "Noooooooooo!" as I cross myself and hit the floor.
MATT: (in drawn-out deep low man voice and slow motion) "Noooooooooo!" as he covers his face with one hand and pulls the door closed with the other.
I chuckle as I write this, but believe me when I say: IT - WAS - AWFUL.

To this day, I'm not sure what he saw, but brothers and sisters have a way of talking about those things without ever mentioning them. At lunch a few minutes later, I sit down in my normal chair - across from my brother and sister, between my mother and father - and Dad says Grace. It's on special occasions that Dad says Grace rather than all three kids (which can be a lot of Grace when you're hungry). Dad thanks God for bringing me home safe and sound and tells Him how much, "We've all missed seeing Alecia".

Matt begins giggling. He starts shaking. He is a quiet boy who is now laughing hard and loud into his clasped hands, so I start to giggle and my bewildered father has to hurry his Amens along. And as Mom fills our plates, we look up at each other - over mashed potatoes and roast beef - and know that everything is cool.