As an only child my family unit was highly lacking in sibling discord. Oh how I envied all that discord – all that hair pulling and accusations of insignificance that would rise to the level of, “I’m gonna tell on you”!! How I craved the slamming of doors and a line drawn down the center of a shared room. SO MUCH FUN!!

My parents did a respectable job of trying to supply some partners-in-crime by offering our abode as the hang-out house. They really tried. God bless them. But I felt the need to take things into my own hands by implementing my own coping mechanisms.

By offering my services as a highly skilled mediator to friends faced with sibling warfare – I was able to witness, take note of and delve into the who, what, where and how of those temperamental kinships. And with those observations and all the investigative unraveling, I was able to imagine some delightful if-I-had-siblings scenarios for myself. The mischief-makers…all bratty, bossy, annoying, nosy…AND ALL MINE.

A girl can dream…can’t she??!

Although my wish for a sibling never came to fruition, I got to be a key witness to the disharmony going on in my own house between my two daughters – SISTERS. Oh man, I was luxuriating in buttons being pressed and voices being raised in fierce squabbling…the ‘knock-down-drag-out’ was unsettling and annoying and impressive; a mixed bag that I embraced with much envy and utter awe. THERE WERE SIBLINGS IN MY HOUSE! IT WAS HAPPENIIIIING…

I’m thinking the universe must circulate a how-to manual for all sibs to model after. It was quite apparent that my girls had not just read the cliffs notes, but devoured the entire tome. The “she’s touching me” and “she’s looking at me” blurted from the backseat was spot-on. The who gets to press the elevator button, who sits ‘shotgun’, and the fighting over who would get which t-shirt…when they were identical. I WAS LIVING THE DREAM.

In addition, I savored some unforeseen bonuses confessed to me years later. Those two girls of mine brought to light the things-that-were-a-happening under my presumed watchful eyes. Uh, oh. YES! One of my favorites was my youngest succumbing to the order of laying on the floor while my oldest would lay atop a giant exercise ball and repeatedly roll over her body…including her face…

now, how was that not so fun?

But regardless of the the arguing that went on over sharing and who’s first and the “you’re not my real sister” …the bond between them has never faltered. They recount stories of standing up for one another. “Don’t you ever do that to my sister again”, stories of a secret language, whispering into the night and quieting fears. And I’ve been told they commiserate over perceived parental injustices. What could those possibly be?

But no worries, they haven’t lost the inclination to press one another’s buttons. Squabbles, disagreements, turf wars and accusations still abound. Thank god. They are sisters…hello-oo?

IT WAS TRULY EVERYTHING I EVER DREAMED OF. And so much more…