When I was 11 years old, I was elated when my mom had a baby girl. I already had 3 brothers; now I would finally have a sister!
What I didn’t account for, was the fact that she was 11 years younger than me. And that when I moved out, she would be 7 years old. And that after I moved out, I would be more like an extended relative – more like an aunt who visited a couple times a year – than a sister. The late nights of giggling about boys that I had imagined turned out to be late nights of babysitting.
Not to say that I didn’t enjoy having a baby sister. I think it taught me a lot about the fine art of child rearing – I was too young to remember much of anything about my two little brothers’ first few years of life. With my sister, I was old enough to start learning the arts of diaper changing and baby pacification. I haven’t yet needed those skills – except for other people’s kids – but the responsibility was good for me.
It’s been a few years, and my sister is finally starting to catch up with me. She’s in the midst of high school and will soon be setting off for college. While we’ll never have a relationship of giggling about boys long after we’re supposed to be asleep, I do look forward to getting to know my sister as the adult she is about to be.
The sad thing about my sister growing up, is that one of these days, she is going to realize I’m not quite as amazing as she once thought I was. When she was 5 or 6, I asked her what she wanted to do when she grew up; without any hesitation, she told me she wanted to wear contacts, play the clarinet, and work at McDonald’s. You might think that’s an odd wishlist, but those were the things she knew that I did – and at that age, she knew she wanted to be just like me. Because when you’re in kindergarten, there’s no one cooler than your sister in high school.
I asked her just the other day what she wanted to study in college, and, true to little sister form, she spouted off my major. To be fair, it also happens to be the area of study for two of my brothers – but she’s still looking to follow in my footsteps. I’m glad to see that as she has grown, she has also grown more discriminating – nowhere in her future plans does she include “drive a car with a hugely embarrassing dent” or “own a house with popcorn ceilings.”
She’s definitely not what I thought I wanted when I was 11 years old. But she’s my sister. And that’s exactly what I needed.