Two Was Enough, Plenty Actually

So I just got off the phone with my sister. I looked down at the display and noted with surprise that we spoke for 80 minutes and 36 seconds. It didn't seem quite that long of a conversation, but I guess that is the beauty of a good chat.

My sister is five years older than me. Apparently when she was told I was going to be coming into the world, she got very upset. She had been queen of the roost for so long, she couldn't imagine having to share any of the chicken feed. There are some absolutely hilarious pictures of her holding me as an infant in my parents photo albums. Her face is literally dripping with disgust, and she is holding me as far from her body as possible without quite dropping me facefirst onto the floor. Yet my parents assure me they didn't force her to take them. Right.

Of course, being so much older, she had much more information at her disposal at 7 than I did at 2, and she never failed to lord this fact over me. I was seen as a goofy dumb baby, and to be fair, I don't know many 2 year olds that can compete intellectually with a 7 year old. She would constantly tell me things that were untrue, and then laugh hysterically when I believed her.

My parents would sometimes put her "in charge" of me, and that is when all hell would break loose. She would order me to do something like put all the toys away, and I of course, would refuse. She would then proceed to sit on me. I would then proceed to try to bite her butt or her arm, usually quite successfully. And let me tell you, I was trying to really chomp, I was furious at being physically constrained. A standstill would ensue, with her eventually tattling to my parents how I wouldn't listen to her. They would then say something I don't really remember, but it was something like the both of us were in big trouble. What must have been to her utter horror, I grew taller than her by 8th grade or so. Then that particular tactic was no longer an option.

Seriously, we fought constantly. Over the phone, over how I would sneak her jewelry, how I supposedly snuck around behind my parent's back (only a little!), over who left our bathroom more dirty, over how I was stupid to want to be a teacher, over what a brainy nerd she was. We must have driven my parents insane. If you had told me at the age of 15 that my sister and I would ever have a very pleasant conversation that lasted longer than 2 minutes, I would have doubled over with laughter.

But, she has mellowed a bit with age, as have I. We don't have a huggy kissy relationship, but one that I would call comfortable. We visit frequently and sometimes hang out together with just the two of us. She adores Mr. Personality (really, who doesn't) and has even offered to keep him for a weekend once he is potty trained. She will tell me point blank when something is in my teeth and I will let her know when she has a stain on her shirt. We have come a long way from the posterior-biting days, and thank goodness for that. She still thinks she's the boss because she's older, but I'll let her keep that delusion for a little while longer.

Comments

Melodee said…
You are such a good writer. And I suppose you're good at biting your sister on the butt, if you say so! ;)
Suzanne said…
My sister is two years older than me We fought likes cats and dogs growing up, but now I would not trade her for anyone or anything. We couldn't be more different but we are good for each other. :)
Anonymous said…
My sister and I are the same way. I am 4 years older so I was the one doing the sitting and she was doing the biting.
My sister is now one of my best friends, and I couldn't have gotten through some tought times as an adult without her.
Anel

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