When I was about 6 or 7 and Liam was about 12 or 13 after Sunday lunch on a pretty day, the older boys disappeared on their bicycles. Liam and I were left with my mom. Liam was to meet all of his friends that afternoon to go hiking. My mom said to Liam, "I'm tired and I want to take a nap. Will you take Marjorie with you?"

Liam said, "No, no, no, no!!" Mom finally convinced him as she always could, and we left to go join his friends. 

As soon as we got outside the door, Liam stopped me and he fiercely told me, "Don't you dare whine or complain or say 'Wait for me' even one time or you will never do anything with one of us again." (Meaning with any of the brothers.)

I said, "Okay." 

We set off for the afternoon with about six of his friends who didn't object to my being there. I trotted after them all afternoon. We got home about six and walked into the kitchen. Mom was preparing tea. When she saw me, she asked, "Why are you limping?" She sat me down, took my shoes and socks off, and my feet were all bloody inside my shoes and socks. She immediately said to Liam, "What did you do to the child?"

Liam said, "I didn't know anything about it," and I didn't say a word.