I came to realize today that although I've mentioned the fact that I have two sisters, I've never really talked about them. I find that strange, because I have plenty of things I could say about them. Rather than bore you with descriptions, I figured I'd do what I seem to do best: Tell you all a story about them. This particular one involves me and my younger sister.
The day was rainy and cold, and also a Saturday. The television had long since stopped providing entertainment, and since playing outside was not an option, my parents sent my sisters and I to our rooms to find something quiet to do. My older sister, Maria*, went to her room to read. My younger sister, Jen*, followed me into my room. My bedroom held all of the toys and various things to play with, so my room was often the hang-out spot.
We agreed on a board game, and that kept us occupied for a short while. I eventually grew tired of playing, and wanted Jen to leave. She wanted otherwise, and would not leave.
"Jen, please leave. I want to have some time to myself." I said nicely.
"But Miiiike! I don't wanna leave! Maria isn't gonna want to do anythin', and I'm borrrreduh!"
"Go ask Maria if she'll play with you. I want you to get out of my room, please."
"Puhleeease can I stay? I'll be quiet an' I'll stay out of your way, I promise! If I do anthin' wrong, I'll leave. Pleeeeeeeese?"
"No, Jen. I've asked you nicely, and I want you to leave. Don't make me get Mom and Dad..." I trailed off threateningly.
Jen's eyes widened in fear, and took a few steps backwards towards the door.
"Okay, I'll go... No one ever wants to play with me." Jen mutters under her breath.
"Its not that I don't want to, its just that I want to be alone right now. You can come back later."
She turns around and comes back into my room. "Can't I just stay here? I'll sit in the corner nice an' quiet. You won't even know I'm here! Promise!"
"No!" I say, getting frustrated. I grab her arm and start to push her out the door. I'm able to move her easily, until she grabs hold of the door frame on both sides.
"GET OUT!" I yell.
"I don't WANNA!" Jen yells back.
A human tug-of-war ensues, with me pushing her out the door, and her pushing back. Our loud exchange continues as a muffled "Guys! Be quiet!" comes from behind the closed door to my parents bedroom. Knowing I could get in trouble, I give one last hard shove, and Jen's hands let go.
She stumbles backwards a few steps, and that's when it happened.
Jen hit the other side of the narrow hallway, and came to a sudden stop when her ass broke through the drywall. In that exact instant, we both became silent, knowing full well just how much shit we were in. We looked at each other in fear as we heard stirring in my parents room.
My mother, long-since fed up with our shouting, emerged from my the bedroom just seconds after Jen ass-planted herself.
"BOTH OF YOU. TO YOUR ROOMS. NOW!" she yelled.
With her ass still sunk into the wall, Jen looked at her, tears starting to pool in her eyes, and slowly shook her head 'no'.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. GO TO YOUR ROOM!" Mom yelled even louder.
Sniffling, Jen looks at me, and then back to Mom again. "I can't!" she pleads innocently.
Clearly not having the patience, my mother, with two quick steps, moves down the hall and stands over Jen. She grabs her arm and begins to pull her down the hall to the bedroom she shares with Maria.
Only then does she see the butt-shaped hole in the wall.
From here on, my memory of this event is shaky. I remember that there was lots of yelling and finger-pointing, but ultimately, both Jen and I ended up grounded. Jen was lectured about listening to people, and I was lectured about not being so physical. My dad spent the rest of the weekend attempting to patch the hole. Maria spent the rest of the weekend with a smug grin on her face, enjoying the fact that she wasn't involved. My mom spent the rest of the weekend with her head in her hands, wondering how she raised such hellians.
Through the years there would be many more incidents where Jen and I would get into trouble together. She never did learn how to listen, although I eventually learned to use words before actions. Even when she was the instigator, I was often the one to get the blame for yelling at her. She hasn't changed much since childhood, and still knows which buttons to push to get me angry. We all look back on that day and laugh about it, but I still claim my innocence.
*Names changed to prevent my ass from getting kicked when my sisters find out I wrote about them on my blog.