How DARE she, the usurper?

Does this face seem a little unsure of what it going on?  Somewhat like she was told to smile and just couldn't quite pull it off?  Well, take a look at the WHOLE picture!

The expression on my face isn't one of glee.  I'm told that I wasn't too happy about this addition to my life.  It was a little sister.  The problem wasn't the sister, it was the fact that I was no longer the 'baby' of the family.  I was no longer the center of attention.  In Mother and Daddy's words, I was JEALOUS.

Although I don't remember her birth, I have many memories of times with Sandra and, soon after, Stanley.  But a note about Stanley will be written another day.  One sibling at a time!

Once I adjusted to having a younger brother and sister, I must have become a nightmare to them both.  Sometimes with good intentions.  Sometimes with bad intentions.  Most of the time with bad intentions.

I would bite Sandra if she didn't do what I wanted.  I had crooked front teeth so I couldn't get away with it but that didn't stop me.  Mother could see the teeth marks and know it was me.  Sandra couldn't even pretend I left teeth marks; mine were as distinctive as a fingerprint!  

I would threaten them if they didn't do what I wanted.  (The chicken story will come later, Stanley.)  I'd tell them that I'd tell Mother and Daddy "......" if they didn't do whatever it was I wanted them to do.  They'd usually do whatever it was.

Sometimes the two of them would get mad at each other and would start arguing. They'd get loud and wouldn't play together.  I could tell it bothered Mother. She was busy and had to stop to fix the problem of the two youngest quarreling.  I would, in my eyes, "come to the rescue".  I'd go to them and deliberately say something that would make them both mad at me.  It always worked.  They'd suddenly start getting along, start playing well together, united in anger at me.  Mother didn't believe that I was doing it on purpose with good intentions.  She didn't believe that I was "coming to the rescue".  Of course now I can see how frustrating that had to be for Mother and that I was causing trouble again.  But I can say that in those few times, I honestly had good intentions.  And it worked; they did start getting along!  As much as I picked on them, why would Mother believe that THIS time was with good intentions?   

Sandra and I did not get along at home.  Mother would point out two girls we knew who, as Mother said to me, "always get along, why can't you be like them and get along with Sandra"?  It would make me mad.  It wasn't MY fault Sandra couldn't get along with me.  Even if it WAS my fault, in my mind, it was always her fault even when I knew deep inside that it was my fault.  Accept blame?  Not me!

Now that we're grown, Sandra and I are the best of friends.  If I could have seen the future, the first photo would have been one of glee and thanksgiving, looking forward to the future.  But when you're 5, being 55 is the last thing you're thinking about.