See.
Ok. Now that that is out of the way. I've lost my train of thought. BUT LOOK AT HER SHE IS PERFECT.
Found it.
Ok, so Steph and I have grown very close over the last 5 or 10 years, and I don't know where I'd be without her. When we were younger, we "hated" each other. No siblings really hate each other - correction, maybe there are some that actually do, but I digress. There is that period of time in your life where they are more of a nuisance than something to be celebrated.
Steph and I had that, absolutely. We'd be fine one second, and the next I was threatening to push her down the stairs (I was a total asshole peach of a big sister). As we got older, our fights got bigger, and sometimes even involved pushing and shoving and slapping and sometimes your little sister gets mad and digs her fingernails into your skin so hard that you bleed. But I'm totally not bitter.*
Why am I droning on and on about our childhood nonsense and antics?
Answer: I've been given some information recently that has brought to my attention how special our bond really is.
When I say special, I mean that in the most...I can't explain how I actually mean it, but here's the little ditty I just learned about.
Steph and I have a family member that is sort of harsh. That's really all I'll say, as I'm trying to do this new thing where I try to be a really good person. Alright, so my family (dad, mom, me, sister) lived with...
I need to interrupt this because I turned on the Backstreet Boys Pandora channel to bring back this era of my life, and O-Town's "All or Nothing" just came on. You're welcome for that reminder that that groupy existed.
OK, so my family lived with this family member (it's a grandparent...I'm going to screw up by the end of this and air it all out) a couple of separate times. This grandparent has one room in their house totally devoted to dolls. Not presh little Cabbage Patch dolls, I'm talking Chuckie meets some trippy version of Teddy Ruxpin and his creepy tagalong friend, Grubby. Look, Teddy Rux and Grubbster were a good time in the daylight, talking and making you LOL, but I'm telling you right now, those lights go out, and your worst nightmare is coming true. So there were those, plus an entire wall, an infinite wall if you will, draped in cabinets that were overflowing with porcelain dolls. Those creepy ones whose eyes always eerily shift in the quietest moments of a scary movie. The white faced terrors of my worst nightmares.
To say we hated this room was a ridiculous understatement. I would have volunteered to sleep in Freddy Kreuger's lair if it meant I could avoid the doll room.
Would you guys mind if I took that back? I am, in very real ways, absolutely terrified of Freddy Kreuger, so I'd like to renege that previous statement.
We'll just say I would have rather slept in a wet hot dog bun than in the doll room. Just think about that for just one second. A wet hot dog bun. Ew.
Steph and I didn't agree on much around this time in our lives, but the doll room, we totally agreed on. We would go to bed together and leave the room at the same time in the morning. It did not matter if the other was tired at night or not done sleeping in the morning, it was a pact. We wouldn't let the other be in that room alone.
Just for reference, this story starts in the afternoon, circa 1993ish. I was somewhere around 7 or 8 years old, and Steph was 5 or 6. The deets are a bit vague, as I had forgotten this event even occurred until a few days ago.
Ok, you should also know that Steph and I would actually stick together when we had to stay at this relative's house. If I spent time explaining why, we'd be here for days, but just know it was a necessity for the two of us to be on the same team. There's power in numbers and all that jazz.
Wait. NSYNC's "This I Promise You" just came on. I'm living my tweens all over again.
Odd, this song starts off, "when the visions around you bring tears to your eyes...", which reminds me an awful lot of the doll room.
Again, I digress. Ok, so here's what we've established:
- Circa 1993
- I'm around 7 or 8
- Steph's around 5 or 6
- We're working together to combat not-kind relative
- We've spent an afternoon playing
This particular relative is mean. And they were not too keen on you walking through their house after you'd been in the pool if you were the LEAST bit drippy. I cannot say for sure, and I don't like to lie, but I'm pretty sure we got in trouble that afternoon, because one of the two of us dripped pool water on the carpet.
I'm telling you. I want to make reference to a Nazi war camp type setting, but I'm really feeling like that might be inappropriate. Look, we were in Sing Sing, except we had a pool and a doll room to "enjoy".**
So we're going to bed that night, pretty irked that we got in trouble, and we walk into the dark doll room. I really just cannot emphasize how intensely horrifying this room was. I wish I had a photo. Anyway.
So the middle of the night, I wake up, soaked. I have a really vivid imagination, and used to have nightmares, so it's not uncommon to wake up soaked from sweating. Night terrors, no joke. So, I'm soaking wet, and Steph wakes up, and I'm all ahh, I'm soaked. She's like, you're sweating, shut up.
That's the story. Boring.
Here's how that conversation in the middle of the night SHOULD have gone.
ME: Ahhh, I'm soaked. What the heck?!
STEPH: Yea, I peed the bed because I was mad and I hate the doll room.
ME: YOU PEED ON ME?!
STEPH: Yes. Shut up.
The other day, I'm skyping with Steph, and somehow this story gets brought up. I had forgotten about it, because I've woken up sweating from nightmares or being hot or whatever, a zillion times. No no, she says, she peed the bed cause she was mad.
My sister peed on me, and not in the Chandler peed on Monica kind of way. No, she just peed on me to smite the unnamed relative. And maybe piss off (see what I did there?) the dolls.
Either way, here we are on skype, and she is crying laughing, and I'm reminded of the time I thought my dog, Princey, had gone to a farm because he bit someone, only to find out 9 years later my parents put him to sleep. So either one of two things is true: I'm insanely gullible or I'm surrounded by jerks. I'm tempted to say B, but I'll give the benefit of the doubt and go with the former.
So the next time you wake up soaked from a "bad dream" or "hormones", question the person sleeping next to you. They may have peed on you because you upset them. Suggestion: take a quick second to do a little sniff sniff and make sure you've not just convinced yourself that you're some sort of over sweat producing freak, when in actuality, someone has golden showered you without your consent.
Almost one year ago, my sister gave birth to my sweet niece, Clara (see above photo). Clara was so tiny and so perfect, and my dream of becoming an auntie had finally come to fruition. So, with permission from mom and dad, I changed one of her first diapers. And she pooped on my hand.
I guess it's true what they say...
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
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*I'm really not bitter at all. Now we laugh about it. Besides, I told on her and she got in such an immense amount of trouble that I ended up sort of feeling bad for her.
**Perhaps too far, but if you know me, I'm not so good at knowing where lines are so, yeah.
yikes.
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