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Showing posts with label birth order. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth order. Show all posts

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Taunting Siblings #AtoZ

Most people know that the majority of U.S. presidents were first born children, but I bet you didn't know that most comedians were born last. So, since I'm four positions down from the presidency, I guess I'll continue to write my humor blog. Today's post features those taunting siblings that I'm lucky enough to have grown up with.

Sweet, Defenseless, Little Girl 
Being Viciously Attacked by Older Sibling
Being the baby of the family had it's pros and cons. On the bright side, no one made me wear dresses to school everyday while insisting I was too young to shave my legs. Also, I didn't have to beg, pray, or bake a German Chocolate Cake to get my ears pierced. I simply asked once and went to a gynecologist to get it done. You read that right. Twelve year old me sitting among the pregnant women and taking in evil glances from assuming folks. I also got to go to camp, France, and anywhere else I wanted because my sibs had broken in my parents big time.

On the negative side, I wore a powder-blue, polyester gym suit that said, "BEP" on the front because $7.00 was too much to pay for a pretty red one with my own initials. Plus, four positions down the birth order meant I had to search hard to find the one accomplishment that no one had done before. Would you believe I found it in sports? How original! But worst of all, everyone remembers all my little kid embarrassments, but I have nothing on them! Except the ability to report their various abuses.

Don't Look Up, Barb!
 Barb used to pay me 20¢ to go to the A & P store after school everyday. I'd buy one candy bar for her and get whatever I wanted for myself. After five years of that, we both weighed in at a whopping 470 pounds, but boy was that chocolate great! As for taunting me, she wasn't totally innocent either. She once backed me into a corner with a whip she'd won at the carnival. It's okay. After I fetched her a bone in my mouth, she left me alone.

Look at those red tights!
As for Bev, she reads my blog so I shouldn't tell you how she pinched one of my boobs and told me that it would be smaller than the other one. Thanks to Bev, I have to special order all my bras. One side's an A while the other is a Double D. Dang! Dang! Why'd she pinch me? She used to love to push my gullible button too. In fact, she told me she was going to give me a shot and pulled out a bottle of alcohol. That's okay too. I simply fainted and Mom screamed, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"

Even though these three have sometimes caused me grief, I feel sorry for only children who never learn how to be good fighters. So this one's dedicated to those taunting siblings. How did your sibs torture you?

I'll see you tomorrow when I participate in the Six Sentence Sunday challenge.