Dearest Sister of Mine,
You’re getting ready to write your maid of honor speech. I’d like to take this time to point out that I was definitely not a bad older sister.
As you know, certain situations warrant the retelling of old stories. For instance with the birth of a new baby comes stories of “baby’s first bump on the head” or “what I did that I thought would scar baby.” (Sister, do you know where this is going yet?) I have one of those stories, I think you know and when the newest (absolutely adorable) addition to the family popped (almost literally, from what his mom tells me) into this world just a few days ago, people started talking. They started talking about those stories.
Here’s my admission:
I dropped you when you were a baby. Dad was babysitting, but his fear of dirty diapers kept him from changing your diaper. As your big sister, I felt obligated to make sure you were uncomfortable. However, as an 8-year-old, I couldn’t completely comprehend the entire “babies-who-are-about-eight-months-roll-quickly” concept. I’m sorry I left you on the changing table to grab a diaper and then you rolled off of the table.
Lucky for you, I had started playing goalkeeper already and my coordination was amazing even at an early age. I got it from Mom. Or dad. (I’m starting a quarrel here. That’s one of their more interesting arguments and I need some entertainment at home tonight…) When I saw you in my peripheral vision, I dropped the diaper and moved to quickly pin you between the changing table and my shin. You never hit the ground and I deserve credit for that.
I was crying tears of guilt and shame. You were laughing. I think that experience hurt me more than it hurt you.
Summer. People start talking about the beach. And beach houses. And driving to the beach. In golf carts.
I’m really sorry I threw you off the back of the golf cart. But, mom let me drive while my left hand was in a cast that went up 3/4 of my arm. I don’t think that this one was all my fault. I was like, ten.
Once again my age restricted my knowledge of life.
I had no idea that when you shifted a golf cart from reverse to forward without your foot on the brake that it would lurch like that. I’m sorry you fell and skinned your knees. I’m sure that was awfully painful with sand in it.
I’m sorry, dear sister. I hope you’re not scarred.
But Tracy, I don’t even compare to these “18 Siblings Who Need To Be Stopped.” Please keep in mind that I did not make this list..