The hardest thing for a younger brother to do, is stay at home with his older brother who's not supposed to be walking around but tries to anyway.
Darry was being as stubborn as a mule. I couldn't keep him down. I tried being nice and getting things for him, but he kept saying that he could do it himself. So I let him get up once or twice.
Then, he just started cleaning the house! That's when I drew the line.
"Darry!" I screamed. "Stop cleaning! You're supposed to be resting. Now go sit down!"
He was surprised at my reaction, but he recovered quickly.
"Pony? Who's the adult here? Me or you?"
"At the moment, I seem to be more like an adult than you do. You should know better than to be running around when you're hurt. Go sit down!"
"No." He said.
"NOW!" I yelled.
FInally, he gave in. But not long enough.
In about fifteen minutes, he was up again. This time, I took matter into my own hands.
I grabbed his crutches from him, and pushed him down into his chair.
"What the. . .?" He started.
I threw the crutches into the hallway, where he couldn't reach them.
"Pony! I need those!"
"No you don't. Unless it's an emergency, which it isn't, you don't need them. Now sit down and stay down."
"Ponyboy Michael Curtis..."
"No! Don't try that! Did I get up and run around when I had a concussion? No! Because you wouldn't let me. Take your own advice. Lay down on the couch, and take it easy."
"Pony. . ."
And that's how we ended up here. Me, sitting on Darry's lap, keeping him down until Sodapop gets home. Luckily for me, it should be soon.