I'll never forget the day I became a sister....
NO!!! Not that kind of sister, though if I were to be a religious sister I'd be like that group, not like a super-sweet sugary ray of sunshine. Hell no.
No, it was at 8:24 on a bright March morning in 1975. My great-aunt and great-uncle dropped me and my best friend off at our kindergarten class. I knew that by the time they picked me up, I would have a baby sister of my own.... All my other friends at church had gotten baby sisters, so I too was excited.
Aunt Mary & Pop John (my names for them) came driving up at 11:30 at pickup time, radio antenna festooned with a blue ribbon. I was no fool; I knew what that meant.
We have an expression here in the South: "pitching a hissy fit." Basically, it's the same as throwing a tantrum but it's more halfway between a tantrum and a meltdown. It can be almost amusing when done by a child and downright embarrassing when pitched by an adult.... Well, that morning, seeing the blue ribbon, I pitched one massive hissy fit. Even my teacher, the normally unflappable Mrs. Cooper, refused to intervene. I think Aunt Mary finally guilted me into the car by threatening me with a spanking in front of all my friends. And I promise, she would have delivered. The old bird was a tough one.
I didn't go to the hospital to see my baby brother and mom had to stay a few extra days due to her surgery (c-section) and a horrendous gallbladder attack the day after the surgery.
I admit, I wasn't much of a good sister in those early years. He was an interloper, an intruder who'd managed to steal the affections of everyone who'd previously lavished them upon me and me alone. But fear not, he managed to get in a few revenge hits now and again. And as adults, we have become rather close.
41 years of sisterhood..... Can't beat it!!
Oh and one other note..... These Sisters rock!!!
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