It’s possible a few mitigating circumstances were instigated by David and me, but Susan was the one who got extremely mad, not us.

Daddy-O loves ice cream and eats it in a large mixing bowl. Susan inherited Dad’s ice cream gene.

Our refrigerator freezer was a shrinking igloo inside an ever thickening wall of frost. Unlike today’s separate freezer compartments, you had to open the rounded refrigerator door to access the freezer’s metal door.

Susan wanted ice cream the minute she got home from school. David and I grabbed the bucket of ice cream first. We heaped our bowls full, stuck the bucket back in the freezer, and informed Sue about its creamy mouth-watering deliciousness.

“I want some,” said Susan.

We pretended we couldn’t hear her and continued raving over how wonderful our ice cream tasted. I suppose I should mention that Susan is nine years younger than me and seven and half years younger than David.

1966: Me, Dad, Mom, Paula, Susan, David

“Fine, I’ll just get my own,” said Susan. She marched toward the fridge.

David reached over Sue’s head and braced his arm against the refrigerator door. She waited patiently for him to get tired of the game.

After a few minutes her patience was gone, replaced by a growing frustration. See? Susan really did have a temper problem!

I finished my bowl and took over guard duty, so David could continue eating.

Our sweet little sister stopped whining, quietly walked to the silverware drawer, and removed the biggest kitchen knife from inside. We watched in disbelief as she raised it over her head, emitted a piercing scream, and ran toward us.

We raced around the kitchen table with Sue in hot pursuit. We couldn’t get too far ahead or we’d be right behind her.

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This is the look that was on Susan’s face.

“Put that knife back this minute or you’ll be in big trouble,” I yelled.

“Aughhhh! You’re both meaniacs,” she yelled.

“Stop running with a knife or you’ll get hurt,” warned David. “You can have your ice cream. We’ll stop holding the door shut.”

“Put the knife down now and we won’t tell on you,” I added.

“Do you both promise?”

We did. Susan replaced her knife with a satisfied smile and got her ice cream.

David and I collapsed on the couch and laughed nervously. We kept an eye on Susan when she came into the living room. No knife.

Years later, Sue said, “I just wanted to scare you. I wasn’t really trying to catch you.”

Hmmm, I wonder.