After a difficult birth with my son I swore not to have another child. I was also worried that I didn’t have enough love to go around if that makes sense as the boy was my world and I didn’t see how i could love a second child as much as my first.
I was an only child for 10 years, I loved it. Center of attention ( in case you haven’t guessed) suited me just fine! my own room and enough Tammy girl clothes to open my own boutique. I never really asked for a brother or sister as I was a confident child and content making gangs with the local kids in our village or running off down the beach to talk to complete strangers ( it was the 80s) so i could befriend their children. Some of these random friendships have lasted a lifetime, Just ask my mum she still has to send the Christmas cards!
So the day my sister arrived was filled with mixed emotions, I was no longer an only child. At first it was fun, I helped Mum to change her , feed her and played with her…we were getting on great and i was content in my new role, but as she grew so did her attitude, she had more sass than RuPauls Drag Race and was excused many of her misdemeanors because of her age (granted that’s fair but tell that to a 16 year old trying to cram for her GCSE’s as shed been too busy recording the chart show most weekends) We shared a room so nothing was sacred my badge collection (I know i was soooo cool), school work (to be fair this got me out of a number of forgotton homework situations) even my beloved Blue eyeliner and crimpers!
It was war and frankly I was quite good at it. The amount of times I protested that “my sister” had been at fault ( and got away with it) was amazing. I don’t know if it was because my parents felt guilty for not spending as much time with me or if my acting skills were that good! If so, I still want to know why i didn’t get any lead roles in the NYMT (I was however the best ‘Woman 3’ you’ve ever seen) I do feel a little guilty though as she did endure quite a lot of torment and still partly blames me for her claustrophobia. I use to dangle her by her tiny sparrow legs and flush her head down the loo any time she wound me up . I trapped her under blankets until she squealed and even feigned death so well she called the police ( don’t try this at home ) despite all this I was still her favourite person and she followed me around like a shadow. When I went to university I missed her so much. I remember one holiday I came back to my family home and cried as she opened the door. My baby sister with her signature pigtails had gone and had been replaced by a ….. dum dum derrrrrr teenager ahhhhhhh.
She always remarks on how it’s like having two mums as naturally with the age gap I’ve always felt responsible and protective over her. As we’ve grown older though we’ve continued our close relationship, owning a business together, planning her wedding and I even got to help out during her labour with her first child ! She’s the first person I call if I’ve seen a funny joke or make an epic blunder (of which there are many). I still relish every opportunity I have to tease her, mostly regarding her use of social media (self confessed selfies queen and serial misspeller) or daft ramblings. For example one afternoon we drove past a large factory bakery and you could spell the fresh bread….. My sister shouted “ oh wow a toast factory”🙄 Not to mention baby swans according to her are swanlets and she regularly orders a Col-le-nal meal at kfc as couldn’t quite get to grips with its actual pronunciation ( I think she may have slept through all her history lessons) But we are the closest of siblings , I wouldn’t say best friends because I think it’s different to that “ we’re blood” as she would say and I wouldn’t have it any other way , I couldn’t imagine my life without her even when she winds me up or acts like a Wally she’s my little loser, I’m her Sir Geeks a lot, were partners in crime and will always have each others backs.
So pretty soon after I had my first child , with the stitches still sore I knew I’d have to go through it again, so as not as to deprive my lad of a relationship that is so treasured. However that being said my two better get on because I’m not having a third my bladder can’t take it !
Absolutely beautifully written and hoingly funny. You write as you speak and that’s perfect! No wonder she adores you so! Xxxx
Hoingly? HOWLINGLY!