Tag Archives: Family

Sister of the Year

5 Jun

My younger sister, Shelby is so lucky to have me, someone to guide her through the trials and tribulations of adolescence and be her shining beacon. Even at a young age, I took the responsibilities of being a big sister seriously and dutifully taught her the ways of the world.

We used to share a room, and we would lay in bed discussing life, before falling asleep. One night, in the darkness of our room, I decided that I would share with her my darkest secret.

“Hey Shelby,” I began.

“What?” she responded, annoyed.

“Guess what?”

“What?!” Her interest peaked.

“I’m adopted,” I lied.

“You are not,” she replied skeptically. Mama didn’t raise no fool.

“Yes I am!” I persisted. “In fact,” I continued, acting upon a sudden burst of inspiration, “I’m a magic bunny.”

“Yeah right.”

“Am too!” (To this day, I am still just as clever with the comebacks.)

“Oh yeah? Then where are your ears?” my sister sneered triumphantly.

Crap! I panicked. Where was I going to get a pair of ears at this time of the night? I grabbed a blanket, folded the ends up to fashion a makeshift pair of ears. Then, I stuck my new ears behind my head and cried out, “Right. Here.”

Silence.

Finally, Shelby spoke, whispering quietly, “Do Mom and Dad know?”

Of course this wasn’t the only life lesson that I shared with dear Shelby. I’m a better sister than that. I also told her that the radio was filled with tiny people who created the music and terrified her by explaining that the soap bubbles created when washing your hair were housed ticks. Creative, I know. I even joined forces with my older brother, telling her that the Loch Ness monster lived beneath our house and that the noises from the heater were in reality, the snores of the beast. And I obviously told Shelby that she was adopted but that’s so cliché.

Eventually, my sister started to catch on and stopped believing me and my fantastic stories. She is no longer nearly as gullible as her four-year-old self once was, and I like to think that I deserve some of the credit for this crucial development.

Advertisements

Mom and Dad’s Worst Nightmare

3 Jun

Being a freedom-loving American child, I fought the shackles of my oppression created by who else but my parents. It only took 22 years to emerge from the battlefield, victorious.

Now before you start assuming that I am a product of “tiger parents,” let me set the record straight. Unlike Amy Chua, my parents, out of the kindness of their hearts, allowed me to go to sleepovers and play dates. Plus, they never threatened to burn my stuffed animals in an attempt to improve my piano performance — I think we all knew my efforts at musical greatness was a lost cause anyway. My life seemed pretty peachy right? WRONG. Oh, I had problems. Big ones, in fact. You see, my parents tried to keep me from my one true love: television.

I suppose my parents meant well. In restricting my television viewing to the weekends, they tried to foster an appreciation for more productive hobbies such as reading and sports. I even vaguely recall a dark time during which my parents cleverly canceled our cable subscription because what besides Saturday morning cartoons will interest a kid on weekend network television? I don’t remember those years very well — I try to block them out.

Unfortunately for my parents, they’re well-intentioned plans backfired…miserably. It was only natural, that when I left for college, my love of television became a full-fledged addiction. It started off with a little Ugly Betty here and a little Gossip Girl there. However, as my dedication to my studies waned and my procrastination habits intensified, I disregarded my upbringing, adding more and more shows to my list until I had 10 hours of television shows to watch each week. Even though it is currently an awkward time in TV land as most shows have already aired their season finales, I find myself invested in shows I don’t even like, e.g. The Voice. I even cried today watching the season finale of The Biggest Loser. Did I mention this is my first time watching the show? I think I’ve dropped to a new level of desperation. Maybe I should have read and exercised more in college.

So, the moral of this semi-pointless story is that 1) sometimes despite mom and dad’s best efforts, plans don’t always pan out and 2) “winning” in struggles against your parents isn’t always in your best interest. Don’t believe me? Watch an episode of Parenthood and get back to me, okay?

***I do want to note that my obsession with the small screen has not been transferred to the silver screen. I have yet to see many blockbusters including Inception and until recently, The Dark Knight. In fact, I had to Google “the Navi people” to understand a joke on the sitcom, Happy Endings last week. Please don’t judge me, okay? For that matter, don’t judge me for anything said in the post and we’ll get along famously.