I never liked P.E.

My brother Ryan is four years younger than I am, so we went to the same school at the same time for only two years, during elementary school. One day I went to P.E. and apparently did something wrong that got me in trouble. I can't remember what exactly I did, which is too bad. What I do remember is the P.E. teacher telling me my little brother had been in P.E. earlier that day and had also gotten in trouble. Ryan getting in trouble was, of course, no surprise. What shocked me, however, was that the P.E. teacher said "hmm, must run in the family."

Now unfortunately this is a terrible retelling of the story because I don't remember what I did or what Ryan did, I just remember how insanely mad I was at that teacher. And I wasn't mad for comparing me to Ryan. It was the opposite. I think I believed that what I had done wasn't all that bad and assumed what Ryan had done must not have been all that bad either, and instead a deep family pride bubbled up in me. And I regretted that I was such a good kid and didn't have the guts to kick that lady in the shins.