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"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

These views represent the thoughts and opinions of a blogger clearly superior to yourself in every way. If you're in any way offended by any of the content on this blog, it is clearly not the blog for you. Kindly exit the page by clicking on the small 'x' you see at the top right of the screen, and go fuck yourself."

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Brown-Eyed Curly-Top

The middle child is having her birthday today.

Maybe you've heard about it. As Joe Biden said about this historic moment in the history of the world, "it's a big fuckin' deal."

Really, it is.

She's 33, but her life reads like an episode of "Teen Mom." If "Teen Mom" were a book.

My sister is unlike anybody else I know, and she's certainly desperately unlike anybody I would ever choose to deliberately associate with. She's the most self-centered person I know, and that's saying a lot, because I majored in theatre as an undergraduate and, consequently, I know a lot of people who are convinced with absolute certainty that their decision to get out of bed in the morning or drop a meadow-muffin is a potent, powerful and positive message to the rest of the world.

My sister is more self-absorbed than any theatre major ever could be. And I doubt very much that she would be offended at my saying that, because it would mean that she's first at something-- best at something, and even if being first and best at being selfish is her reward, she'd wear that bright red ribbon proudly.

When her son was born about half-a-year ago, she could not possibly understand why people like my parents were more interested in the baby than they were in her. She grew instantly jealous of the attention that her beautiful, sweet son received-- like a petty older sibling might. Dissatisfied though she may be with my parent's wandering attentions and affections, she's still content to bring her son to them at least twice a week (and often for overnight stays) to be babysat, as well as heavy bags of her laundry, along with her husband's and her son's for my mother to do.

Did I mention that she's turning 33 today?

My sister is beautiful, and always was, and maybe that's part of the problem. She's been able to pretty her way out of traffic tickets and punishments and bad grades, her big chocolate and volumes of cascading dark brown curls just melting troubles and consequences away like a fresh spring rain clears the world of a lingering heavy snowdrift. My mother used to call her "Brown-Eyed Curly-Top." Some of the things that she's called my mother in the heat of battle, well, even I'm too embarrassed to reprint here.

But, then again, maybe I'm just an aging mama's boy who's jealous of his badass older sister.


My sister is unlike anybody I know, and that's for sure. I struggle in my relationship with her, like lots of siblings do, I suppose. I go through periods where I judge her, and spite her, and ignore her, and attack her, and support her, too. I try, but it never lasts long. An unreasonable demand or a self-aggrandizing comment, a cutting remark or an obnoxious text will plunge me back where I don't want to be but all too often find myself-- that place where I sit and brood and wonder just who the fuck she thinks she is anyway.

"Why is my sister the way she is?" I asked my wife as we were just about to descend into a haze of sleep last night.

"Why is my brother the way he is?" she replied.

"Well," I said, burrowing deeper under the covers, "I know your mom just blames your dad for him, but I don't think that's fair entirely. And I don't think it would be fair to just blame my dad for my sister. There's always more to it than overindulgence..."

Our pre-bedtime conversations aren't always this lucid. Most of the time they're totally incoherent and sometimes slightly disturbing.

We didn't come to any conclusions last night, and the conversation was not picked up this morning, as we struggled to find some Passover-friendly alternative to cereal for breakfast and make sure Molly made it outside without peeing all over the green rug in the living room, but I'm still thinking about it, obviously. And still hurting over it-- all of it.

Most of all, over the fact that I sat down determined to write a happy birthday blog about my sister, and this is what came out.


  1. Honestly? I think the general unwritten natural rule of life is that there has to be one sibling like this in every family. In our family, that would be my brother who at the tender age of 26 is incapable of making his own doctor appointments. He doesn't even know what his doctor's name is. Sad.

  2. I'm an only child, but my husband has the exact same issues with his younger sister. Partly, we think its because he was the oldest and his parents expected him as the boy to take care of himself more...he had to buy his own first car, he had to buy his own first computer, etc., while they generally did those things for his sister. The result being that she's in her mid-20s and still expects her parents to take care of her. Not to mention, she typically does things with the disposable income she has from not taking care of herself to do things both illegal and dangerous, so there's the addict personality as well.

  3. This isn't really an issue for me. Must be because I'm the pretty one! *sniffs haughtily*

  4. LOL @ Magpie!

    I had some issues with my one and only sister in the past but when I relocated, it seems like all the ugly words that transpired between us never took place.

    My husband always fought with his brother when they were living on the same premises but now that his brother moved out, they are much closer to each other than they were before.


    Anyway, happy birthday to your self-centred, pretty sister! ;p

  5. My sister and I never got along as kids, but we grew up and liked each other. I'm always super grateful for that.

    You don't have to like your sister, babe. She doesn't sound very likeable. You only need to love her and be there if she has a reasonable and legitimate need. Your inability to like her is not a failing on your part.

    Why is she the way she is? Honey, if we understood things like that, we would be bigger than a few bytes on the interwebz.


  6. At least you blogged her a very happy birthday. Now everyone who reads your blog will know of her, and that should make her self-centered self feel very special.

  7. My husband and I had this same conversation about his sister this morning. He's the oldest, I'm an only child. I love my parents dearly and I regret that I don't get to spend more time with them. His sister on the other hand, can't be bothered to drive an hour and a half to weekends in a row to celebrate Easter and her dad's birthday. It's pathetic and it makes me angry. She's such a spoiled brat. Argh.


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