I had a roommate in college that would consistently drink and dial, and then try to put the phone calls on me when it was time to pay the bill. No, P, I did NOT call anyone in the Tampa area at 3:41 am three Friday nights ago...
So, my sister turns 21 today, and judging by the (multiple) text messages I got last night, professing her love for me and excitement about turning 21, she got started celebrating a little early. Which is funny. Because we don't really like each other.
*disclaimer: This is not the normal happy-go-lucky post. This deals with issues I have always had with my sister, and so it's not the prettiest. But it's honest and real, I guess.
I remember when my mom told me she was going to have a baby. I was ten, and seriously, I could not have cared less. She told me first thing in the morning, and back then, I wasn't the sunshine-filled morning person I am now. I was a little more concerned about not getting my hair in my waffles.
After that, the memories jump straight to timing mom's contractions on a Sunday afternoon, and then my first meeting with her. I went in to see her and mom, and they asked me to hand them the new baby's bottle, and I picked it up by the nibble-part, and got so extremely yelled at that I felt like pretty much the stupidest person alive. Not that it scarred me or anything.
When she was a baby, I have a few memories here and there, mostly fun-baby kind of stuff. The junk didn't start until her toddler years. See, we were so far apart in age (10 years 8 months) that I was just another mother for her. I changed diapers, wiped noses, got her dressed and made her dinner.
When I entered the workforce, it had to be somewhere that I could taker her with me, so I got a job at her daycare. And when I had to go work at the church, I had to take her with me, even if it meant we both had to walk there. This is not a sympathy post...it's just how it was.
When I was in high school, I didn't have an eighth of the personality I have now, simply because I viewed myself as a martyr. Not only did I have to constantly take care of my sister, it was made quite clear that she was the favorite. I got a car at 19. She got her first car the day she turned 16 and her second car when she was 20.
That last bit hasn't changed. She is the favorite, I am the blacksheep. To say we are like night and day is a little untrue, simply because night and day are both times of day. We are like oil and day. NOTHING alike. She is needy, and calls my parents multiple times a day. I am independent and could go weeks without talking to them. She hasn't picked up a book in years, and my nose is buried in one most of the time. She has her finger on the pulse of fashion, and I'm lucky if my hair is brushed. She is the center of the universe, and most people don't notice that I exist. Especially not when I'm standing next to her.
Mostly she's the favorite and I'm the blacksheep because she's the one with the most marraige and grandchild-producing potential. She's young and cute and skinny and fashionable, and I am older and wider and in my mom's book have pretty much missed the wedding boat, which clearly rules out grandkids. Everyone always tells us that we'll be closer when we get older and the age difference is not so important, but I've always wondered if that was true, simply because we are so different.
This is not intended to be a poor-me post, but I can see how it's turning into that. Which is why I don't often talk about or think about my sister. Because she brings out the worst in me. I am ugly to her, ugly about her, and sometimes mean. For some reason, I've been able to mostly forgive my parents for the things they've done, but I don't necessarily think I've done so with my sister. She's done mean things and said mean things, and for some reason I don't even try. So, mostly I just don't think about it.
But today's her birthday, and now she's 21, so I guess I'll humor her. And text her back that I love her too.
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