Sisters start out as implied playmates and if all goes well end up as default friends. Technically, there's nothing poetic about sisters. You didn't choose them. You live with them whether you like to or not. At times, you're thankful for them but mostly you're really just practicing your tolerance. They're the ones you don't even make an effort to make small talk with. You sit together in the living room, watching TV, and oftentimes you're not even aware of their presence. They borrow your clothes without permission and you throw a fit like you're not guilty of the same wrongdoing. And they always eat the last piece of cake you were saving for the next day.
Yet when they're not around, you look for them. When they're far away, you miss them. And you wonder why you can't shop for shoes without thinking whether they'd like it enough to want to borrow them.
I grew up with 2 sisters. Needless to say, I had to put a lock on my closet to make sure that no one could get to my treasures. Of course, they wouldn't be my sisters if they weren't as foxy as I am. The moment the laundry dries, I make sure I'm the first to get to them otherwise I wouldn't find my favorite top in any of the baskets. What happens as a result is too graphic to even describe. But regardless of who gets to it first, war ensues. I'm sure you could figure that out for yourself.
When I was about 6 years old and my younger sister, Gel, was 4, we had one of our usual fights. She started making faces so I started throwing stuff at her. My aim, as expected, was way off. And when she taunted me for it, I was so peeved that I made sure my next shot found its target. And it did! The weapon of choice: a can lid. It hit her on the forehead and the bloody conclusion almost caused me to faint. It's funny how we hate and love each other at the same time.
When my youngest sister, Bingbing, was born, I vowed to be a better sister to her. And I think Gel also made the same promise to herself. But when Bingbing turned four, it was obvious she didn't escape the "youngest child syndrome" because she eventually assumed the role of personal "cinderella" to her evil older sisters. I'm sure she hated it but loved the idea of being so needed. Hahaha!
I could relate story after story of the horrors of having 2 sisters, but I can't imagine my life any other way. As much as my sisters got to my nerves, they've touched my heart almost as often. I'm so glad I didn't grow up an only child. Birthdays, Christmases, and New Years are so much better when you have sisters to open gifts and pig out with. And blackouts aren't so depressing.
Someday, I wish we could travel the world together. Now that would probably be both sweet and miserable at the same time. I just know it. =)
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