When I started at the U of I, Louise was about 6 and I took her to my dorm’s Haunted House. It was something which students put on every year for the local children. At first, it was kids’ stuff: being handed grapes and told they were eyeballs… But then one room we went into was a mock surgery without anaesthesia! I immediately went into orbit! I made them
STOP!
Turn the lights on! What on EARTH do you think you’re doing? This is far too scary for a child! (To the guy on the table.) Show my sister that you’re absolutely fine! Apologise to her!
APOLOGISE! *shaking my tiny fist*
I don’t remember the rest of the haunted house but presume everyone came to look and gave me a wide berth after I’d torn that group a new poop-chute. Nobody frightens my sister.
NOBODY.
I loved my sister before she was born.
The day my sister was born, I presumed that I would be there for the birth but without telling me in advance, Mom decided that she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain. I arrived at the hospital after school and after Mom delivered a healthy baby girl. My sister was just 1/2 ounce heavier than me when I first came into the world. Consequently I asked Mom if she had a cookie-cutter in there.
After school I went to the hospital. Louise was just a few hours old when I held her for the first time. I carefully supported her head and cuddled her close saying You’re a big girl! Louise balled up her tiny fist and punched me in the nose. I said that she was too young to start the sibling rivalry.
I didn’t have the honour of being a mom but, thanks to my sister, I discovered that I was capable of such a fierce love that can be overwhelming. Now that I’m older, I identify with my hurricane emotions. I’m even happy to mock myself for them – but don’t you mock my sister! I’ll give you a piece of my mind to feast upon!
Sleepless Philosopher 