My sister and I were just slightly less than two years apart in age.
We fought like cats and dogs.
She was and still is one tough gal. Once she hacked me in the back of the head with a tater hoe and split my gourd wide open. I have other scars that she left on me in various engagements we had.
But one day we were walking home from school, and two boys were laying for me in the bushes. I had on separate occasions skinned both of them up pretty good. They decided a collaborative effort might be a more effective way to get a little vengeance on me.
The problem was, they failed to factor my pretty, petite, little skinny sister into the equation. You know what Burns said about the best laid plans of mice and men...
To make a long story short, when they syepped out of that thicket and started the ball rolling, she picked up a flint rock about the size of a grapefruit, and together she and I "went among the Philistines."
A great victory and a mighty deliverance was wrought that day, and we were never bothered by that pair of miscreants again.
So I know what you are talking about, Brother Phelps.
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