Being annoying! Childhood.

I remember full well being a pre-teen and driving my sister Lisa nuts. It was incredibly fun. One of my most favorite activities (other than having crushes on boys who probably didn’t even know what a girl’s period was yet, and dancing to Madonna back when she was Catholic, and not a “british jew”) was hitting her boyfriend’s car to make his alarm go off. He was very into his camaro or whatever muscle car it was. A mustang? Anyway, it was fun to go out onto the driveway and hit the thing until the multi-sirens rang out, and he came running out saying, “My car, my car!” This was when I learned that the car was truly an extension of the male penis. A man will run fast in two situations: anything involving his car, or his penis. That’s about it.

Another favorite pasttime was listening at the door of my sisters’ bedrooms. I usually just heard conversations about boring stuff or fighting. Ooh fighting. That was fun, because then I became a referree inside my head saying, “Oh that’s a good point!” or “I can’t believe he said that!” Really, I was hoping to hear some making out, or some hot and heavy panting, but I never got to.
Being the youngest certainly had its bonus points. I usually got my way–then again, when you argue your point repetitively for hours and days on end, people get sick of hearing you–and got to be like an only child once everyone was out of the house. It definitely had its drawbacks though: no one your age to play with. Constantly tagging along and people telling you, “Go away,” or “You’re too young.” Having most of our life milestones be ages apart from each other.

But truly, getting a rile out of my sister could make my day. I loved to call her ‘Peter Pan’ because she had a short boy cut. I got all of my friends to do this as well, which really made her want to kick me in the throat. Thankfully we usually just pulled each other’s hair or smacked each other, or just yelled at one another. She used to tell me, “respect your elders!”
I’d taunt back saying, “Respect your elders! Respect your elders! What, are you eighty-years old?”
It was all out of love of course. Without her, whose door would I be listening at? Now that we’re older, I don’t get to do this anymore, and of course we have fun playing with our kids together.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s