It was 8:03 and I had 4 minutes to get ready and sprint to school, and as usual, I was stuck standing in front of my closet, commiserating over my lack of clothing. I couldn’t find the nice shirt I wanted to wear, and my jeans were nonexistent. At 8:09, I gave up and went to school in my pajamas.
The source of all this frustration? It wasn’t my pickiness— no, it was my 12-year-old sister, Niraali.
See, my sister thinks that the closets in our house are communal. Right now, she’s probably wearing one of my mom’s shirts, one of my dad’s jackets and my leggings. Because I’m her older sister, I’m the target of most of her thievery.
And that day, she had taken one of my favorite shirts without asking me and worn it to school. She then came home to proudly display the pasta sauce stain on it. (It was white, by the way.)
That’s the problem with younger siblings. They think they’re entitled to bother you whenever they want and eat all of your food, and that they own everything you own. That they can just take your things without even asking you.
Sometimes she takes my things for, well, a slightly understandable reason, like if she needs a pair of my sunglasses for a class skit, or an extra pair of socks for PE. But other times, there’s just no rhyme or reason behind her actions. Seriously, why does anyone need one glove? Just one, singular glove? What’s the point?
It’s to antagonize me, obviously. It’s a proven fact — nothing brings a younger sibling greater joy than to utterly infuriate their older sister or brother.
She takes the last bag of chips. She uses up all the hot water. She takes books from my bookshelf as she pleases. She uses my hairbrush and my chapstick. She wears all my clothes, even the ones that don’t fit her.
And yeah, I can complain. But it’s not long before the voices of my parents ring out, chiding me — “Be mature, Manasi! You’re the older one. Set a good example.”
Right. I’m the one who has to be mature.
Still, at the end of the day, I will painfully admit that, despite her annoying habits (of which she has many), I love her. Not to get too sentimental, but we’re only going to live together for 2.5 more years before I head off to college, or whatever life has planned for me — and while I won’t miss her daily depredations, I’ll probably miss her. Having a sister is like having a built in partner in crime. She is a person to complain to, a person to dance with, a person to get into messy food escapades with. If or when everyone else is gone, I know that I can always count on her to stick with me.
She’s already announced her plans to take over my room the second I leave for college, though. Some things will never change.