Happy Birthday to Sis!

I can remember way back (hey, about 31 years ago) when they brought my sis home from the hospital. I think (and this is what I’ve been told) my mumses went to the hospital while my dad alternated between home and the hospital and my dad’s side grandparents stayed home with me. I do have a faint vague hazy recollection of mumses not being there for a span of time and dad sorta being there but that was OK by me. Someone told me that my parents were going to pick up a sister for me and that I would have a new playmate! I was ALL excited. Someone to play with! I could hardly wait. I know I must have missed my mum but I think in my little 3 year old mind it was alright that she wasn’t there for a few days because when she came back there would be someone to play with!

…aaaaaaaand then they brought my sis home. It was the biggest disappointment in my relatively limited life, that much I remember. Mostly with help from a photograph that my dad took. My sis’s crib or play pen or netted baby thing was set up in the living room and there she was, all small and lumpy and crinkly and a whole ball of not fun. The pic (and I may get it scanned in at a later time) shows me sitting there looking at this…thing that they told me was my sis. In most cases, this would be one of those “Awwwww” shots where the older child (moi) was looking on with love at the new baby. Not so. I clearly remember feeling betrayed and disappointed because I realized, as I looked at the gurgling lump of flesh, that there was going to be no playing. I was crushed.

Word has it that (as older children faced with a newcomer who takes up ALL of mum and dad’s time often do) I “reverted” and tried to gain back the attention that blob-o-sis stole from me by wetting the bed. Not MY bed of course, ew. I dropped jammy trou and wet the other bed in my room, then got back into my own dry bed with my own dry jammie bottoms (freshly pulled back up) and dozed off. Yes, even as a child I was strange. Practical, but strange. Yeah, so I never really got the hang of the whole reversion thing, but I think my parents got the message.

ANYWAY, time went on and my sis grew up and became much more mobile. It happens. We did a bunch of stuff together, or not so much “together” as simultaneously because “together” implies some sort of cooperative interaction. Actually, we played quite well together on some occasions. I remember having some big gigantic cardboard boxes from…a fridge? Washer? Something like that. We set them up downstairs and had all sorts of fun with them. We put a folding chair, our sleeping bags, our stuffed guys and all the supplies we would need to play school or business plus us inside those boxes. My business was a printing office and we fought over who had the rights to use our last name as their company’s name. I think that’s when we switched to playing school.

Sis has always been smaller than me, although now she is just a quarter inch shorter (but three inches shorter in the torso. It’s freaky, that chick has some LOOOOONG legs) where as when we were kids I had thee years of growing on her. This enabled me to do things she couldn’t, like jump from bed to bed at the far end instead of the close ends where they met head to head. My sis broke her collar bone trying to jump way out on the edges. We also have a picture of my sis and I wading about in the water somewhere (I think it was Lake Michigan) and my sis has this concentrated expression on her face as she does something with my arm. It’s not clear what she is doing, but she was scooping up water and dousing my arms. Mumses told us we could go in the water but only up to our knees. My knees were at about her shorts level so I was scooting around all over the place while she had to stay in the shallower water. Sis was extremely pissed off that I could go out further than she could so she decided to try and get me in trouble by getting me wet, there by proving…something.

Oooo, we HATED each other when we were in college. Of course, those were her ME NOW years (a moniker we still tag her with from time to time) when she was insufferably self centered. She has grown out of that but there was about three years when I was thinking of whether I was going to kill her fast and finally get some respite from her or kill her slow just to assuage all my frustrations. Nope, we were not happy sibs at all during the dark times. I think when she hit 24ish and I was 27ish we both grew into people who were more tolerant and more aware. Now we get along fairly well, which is a happy thing. My sis is good people.

This brings us to today. Many happy wishes for my former blob-o-flesh sis. She growed up real nice.

Last Year at the booniverse: Hey, what do you know, it was the sis’s birthday back then too. Weird!

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