Brothers and Sisters

There are times when I get an idea for a post that I have to ask myself, “Do I really want to go there?” This is one of those times. When I told my wife the title for this her response was, “Oh brother, now what?” I have one sister and she reads this blog so I have a feeling I could get into a lot of trouble. Oh well, here goes.

First and foremost, I love my sister. No, really. I’m serious. That being said, we had our little disagreements growing up. In fact there were times we had some good shouting matches. Just like normal, loving siblings. Since she was older, she at times was given authority over me. All in all she didn’t abuse the privilege. Not too much anyway. When we got a little older, in the summer when mom worked lunch at the Log Cabin, we were left alone with sis in charge. We couldn’t leave the yard.  She would often choose our activities for the three hours. I can’t tell you how many hours we spent under the big elm tree cutting out paper dolls. The upside was I got pretty good with a pair of scissors. Really, that is a skill I have used in my life.

At times we would play games like Monopoly or Sorry. We would spread it out on the front stoop occasionally enticing a couple of neighbor kids to join in.

As is true in any relationship, one party will from time to time make a bone-headed decision that will add a little stress. It seems that party was usually me. Like on the last day of 5th grade. It was a nice warm day and we were getting out early. The drill was that we had to clear all the stuff out of the room. During the year we built a terrarium. It was made out of  a wooden box with glass in the front and four, one-gallon pickle jars stuck in holes in the sides. It held plants, insects, frogs, and a fair-sized garter snake. Our teacher asked for volunteers to take the animals. At that point in my life I kind of liked snakes (not so much anymore) so I took the snake. I put it in a shoe box with holes poked in the lid and headed for home.

No one was home when I got there. It really was a nice day and I wanted to be outside, but what to do with the snake. I figured it should be sort of contained so I put the box in a lower kitchen cabinet and left to play. When I returned later, there was still no one home. I checked the cabinet and found the lid off the box and no sign of the snake. I looked all over; no snake. This was not good but I figured it would show up. I chose not to tell the family there was a snake on the loose. Bed time came; still no snake. I was sleeping soundly when the hall light snapped on and my sister screamed. Next I heard my mother call my name. I jumped out of bed, grabbed the snake, and ran out the back door in my BVD’s to return the poor guy to the wild. I never brought another critter home after that.

In the early 1960’s, sis and I would at times have to fend for ourselves for supper on a Friday or Saturday night. Often we would make a Chef Boyardee pizza. It was a pretty sorry meal, but hey, we were kids. Usually WLS was on the radio and old Dick Biondi would be carrying on. One of his deals was singing “There’s a Fungus Among Us.” Dick would also sing his “On Top of a Pizza” song. He talked about lots of weird things to put on a pizza. One night he suggested peanut butter. I tried it and as I recall it wasn’t to bad. Sis didn’t try it and I haven’t had it since.

Some psychologists make a big deal out of birth order. I believe there is something to it. But I also believe that the problems are exacerbated when you mix in gender.

On our block, the family across the alley and two lots to the north had three kids. There were two boys the same age as my sister and me and a younger girl. She was a sweet little blond-haired, blue-eyed princess from the dark side. You probably know her type. A pastor friend of mine in Iowa would call her a “stem-winder.” I asked him to explain that, once. He said, “You know, when you want the stem off the apple you twist and twist until it breaks? That’s what those kids are like.” Another familiar image is Bugs Bunny’s friend Taz. My but she could raise a ruckus.

The other extreme is when the oldest sibling is a girl. Like my wife. She and her three younger brothers still mention the incident once in a while. The details have gotten fuzzy over the years. She will admit that she was probably “being a little bossy.” Her bossy-ness raised a great amount of ire in the brother who is six years younger. He was provoked to the point that he chased her around the house with a butter knife. No one was injured, at least not until dad got home.

Siblings all have their spats. The tragedy is that at times harsh words or disagreements fester and grow eventually fracturing the family. I could spew a bunch of quotes and clechés, but then you would just log off. But I will use just two. A fellow I worked with used to say, “Life is too important to take it seriously.” Or as he explained, lighten up. I might add, show each other a little forgiveness. Your relationship is a worth a lot more than a few dollars, hurt feelings or Aunt Matilda’s antique whatzit. Actually it is true; “blood is thicker than water.” It is about five times thicker than water at 98.6 degrees farenheit.

Last weekend we went to see my grandson in the spring high school play. He had two parts. He was the voice of a very obnoxious parrot and old uncle Abe reading a paper on the park bench. He did an admirable job. Two of the other characters were a young brother and sister. Davy was one of those stem-winders. In one scene, the sister comes running in shouting, “Davy pulled my hair!” At the confrontation Davy confesses his sin and says, “But I won’t let anyone else pull her hair.” I guess I’m with Davy on this one. Me pulling my sister’s hair is one thing, but you had better not  try it, buster.