The Nice Thing About Sisters

The nice thing about sisters is … I wouldn’t know. I don’t have one. I never had one and my parents stopped making family members after my brother came along. But I have observations about people who do have sisters about what could be the nice thing about having a sister.

Item one: Someone to blame. My husband grew up in a large Irish Catholic family. He has lots of sisters. They have lots of children, mostly girls. So he has lots of nieces and they have sisters. My husband is the oldest of the clan but we were the last to have children. As a result, we heard lots of stories about the T girls, MJ and L.

MJ and L were two peas in a pod who grew up on a farm, playing in the dirt and having a generally good time. MJ and L had a lot of energy which was normally put to mischievous use. As the older one, MJ was most likely to be confronted about the situation. Her standard response was “L done it”. One day Grandma O’Bryan reminded MJ that L wasn’t there. MJ’s response “Oh man, Grandma, you figured it out.” So, a sister can be someone to blame – at least for a while.

Item two: Someone to antagonize. We have three daughters. Growing up they were pretty much the fighting Irish. This is just what happens when you mix Scottish and Irish. You get vim and vinegar. Our oldest daughter was the Ready Freddy of the group. The middle one is a whisp of a girl and our stealth child. The youngest is devil or angle, with her halo sitting firmly on two bumps that could very well be demon horns, particularly where the middle daughter was concerned.

The older two generally got along. The oldest and the youngest generally got along and the middle and little one were oil and water. The youngest took full advantage of this and deliberately antagonized the middle one. Miss S would go in Miss KA’s room and touch things on purpose, simply to stir the pot to the boiling point. It worked every time. Miss KA wound string through her room with pins tapped to it as S traps. Then Miss KA posted a note on Miss S’s room telling Miss S the evil fate that awaited Miss S should she step foot in the forbidden room.

The plan backfired because Miss S could not read. But, she was creative, scribbled an illegible note and taped it to Miss KA’s door. Then she sat in her closet and knocked on the wall, which backed up to Miss KA’s room, making it sound like someone was at Miss KA’s door. Her motto might have been “Anything To Annoy”.

Item Three: Someone to borrow from: When you have children, hand me downs are essential. When you have three girls, the youngest rarely gets anything new, but knows all clothes will eventually be hers. Sometimes this outgrowing process can be speeded up by borrowing. Take the case of the Care Bear pajamas. Our middle daughter had a Care Bear nightie. Being a string bean, she grew up and the nightie went from being ankle length to mid calf length to knee length, but still fit her. It was also her favorite PJs.

The little one helped me with laundry one day. This was a bit odd because folding and putting away clothes was generally considered a supreme punishment in our house, as were any other household chores. I watched as Miss S dashed away with the folded Care Bare nightie and stuck it in her dresser drawer.

“But that belongs to KA” I reminded Miss S. With the ultimate in child logic her response was “Well, it’s mine now.”

I was reminded of these events when I went upstairs today. Our middle daughter is a grown up young lady who lives in San Francisco but will be visiting us next weekend. I thought this weekend was a good time to make sure her old bedroom is clean and dusted, with fresh sheets and so on. I discovered that our youngest daughter, who is home from college for the summer, is using Miss KA’s bed frame as a drying rack. Over time Miss KA’s room has become an extension of Miss S’s closet. What can I say? I am sure that by next week these clothes will be dry.

The last time Miss KA was home she and Miss S spent a great deal of time in Miss S’s room watching videos. Miss KA donated her desktop Apple computer to Miss S. I guess that just proves that hand me downs are forever. I guess sisters are too.