Sibling Torture - Monica Kennedy: The Crying Games

The Swartzenberg Girls: Paula (10), Pam (6), Monica (9 mos), and Mom (Doris, 35)

Ah, what an adorable family.  Such precious little girls!  So sweet.  Innocent.  Loving.  Okay, so if you read my sister Pam's stories, Don't Call Me Toe Head and Toe Head Justice, you know that Pam and Paula had their, well, let's say precocious and mischievous sides.  So far though, I have blissfully stayed out of the picture in Pam's writings.  Well, I thought it was time to do a little telling on myself, Pam and Paula from my point of view.  To be honest, all three of us participated in a little sibling torture!

Being the youngest is not easy, especially since my sisters are 6 and 9 1/2 years older.  For one thing, being older meant they were smarter.  We'd get allowance, and back then allowance was often in the form of change.  My sisters would convince me that a nickel was worth more than a dime because it was bigger.  I thought I was getting a great deal.  So did they, until our parents caught on and put an end to their scheme.

My sisters also thought they could out smart me in other ways.  Namely, in avoiding trouble.  As the baby of the family, when I cried, my sisters got in trouble. They had to quickly learn ways to make me not cry.  I aided them though, because my crying spells were always preceded by a long period of tears welling up in my eyes, my breathing becoming erratic, and my face turning red.  So, as soon as they saw the signs, they would do anything and everything to make me LAUGH!  Tickle me, make funny faces, tell jokes, and dance around - anything to make sure I DID NOT CRY!  Most of the time, it worked.  The other 10% of the time I was so ticked off with them I knew my crying would get them in trouble, and dog-gone-it, I was gonna cry so loud that they would be grounded for a week!

Then there were the times when we would play house, and I, being the little 4-year-old drama queen, always wanted to be the mommy.  My loving sisters generally agreed, because it was so much fun to let me be mommy.  It was fun to let me be mommy because then they could not listen to what I told them to do, and, being 6 and 9 ½ years older, they could run faster.  I look back and realize even then I liked to be the one giving orders and HATED to not be OBEYED (mental note: must discuss control issues in next therapy session).  So, as I said, being the drama queen, it would play out something like this:

Four-year-old Monica plays the role of Mommy, cooking in the pretend kitchen.  She is being a good Mommy, preparing a nutritious meal for her family.  Her two daughters, Paula and Pam, play on the floor of the pretend kitchen.

Pam: "Mommy, Paula hit me!"

Mommy: "Paula, did you hit your sister?"

Paula: "Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it?"

Mommy: "That's a bad girl Paula, you're gonna get a spankin' for that!"

Paula: "Oh yeah?"

At this point, Paula would begin running, not away from me, as the mommy, but toward me, and I would run toward her, as the mommy determined to punish the bad child.  As we ran in a circle I would try to spank Paula, but when and if I did, she spanked me.  I would get so mad.  Eventually I would yell, "Stand still so I can spank you!"  At about this time, Paula and Pam would realize I was about to get to tears, which would bring in the real Mom and the real punishment (which was not physical - we got RESTRICTION) so they would revert to the funny faces, dancing, and jokes (mental note: must discuss anger issues in next therapy session). 

Overall, we really had a lot of fun as kids, and the things we did to each other had no lasting effects.  I've gotten really good at typing with a straight jacket on, and the padded walls and floors are great for your back!  Oh, I have to go now - time for my medicine!  Come and visit me sometime, won't you please?