Growing Up
Growing up, my little sister and I never really got along very well. We would fight about anything. What to watch on TV, who got to use the computer, bathroom time-basically you name it and we fought about it. Usually the fights didn't get too out of hand, but there were the occasional instances when objects were hurled at the others head. More often than not, the fights would end in a screaming match, then my mom trying to break it up, and finally with one of us in trouble, that was usually me. The worst fight my sister and I ever got into was when I was 1 and we were at my grandma's house. I was in the room reading on the bottom bunk bed and my sister was playing on the top bunk. My sister decided she wanted to reenact her own version of the story the boy who cried wolf. She would lean over the edge and pretend that she w
She realized she would now have to deal with mom and dad all alone. She now knows that she can relate to me and she can come to me if she ever needs anything. I felt horrible the instant she hit the ground. She would say I did something even though I didn't and she would tattle on me for everything. One of her favorite things to do was break something or do something and then blames it on me. Usually her little schemes worked, especially with our dad. This continued for a while and being the gullible 12-year-old I was, I kept jumping up to help her. The next time she leaned over pretending to fall, I decided to grab her arm and give it a little tug. I would stop reading to jump up to help her, but she would just start laughing at me because she wasn't really falling. Now that she is finally starting to grow up, she has a better idea of what I went through. After that, my sister's sole purpose was to get me in trouble for ruining her summer. She would do or say anything to accomplish this. I am glad my sister and I worked out our aggressions when we were younger. So even though I rarely did anything to get myself in trouble, I was always grounded.
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