The first time I got mistaken for the mother of one of my baby siblings, I was thirteen. I had taken Gorgeous Little Singing Sister (who at that time was more like Screaming Demon Sister) to the park with Baby Brother. She was 2. He was 3. They were 11 months apart. They would have been 10 months apart, only Screaming Demon Sister was a month overdue. I’d say my family sucked at family planning, except I suspect my foolish mother got pregnant on purpose. All eight times. My Ex-Stepfather used to say her dream was Armageddon — and then she would get to repopulate the world. But taking care of all these kids was not her forte. That’s why I was the one with them at the park.
Another kid refused to let Screaming Demon Sister have his shovel, and so she was, as usual, screaming. I held her, and as her sobs subsided, a middle-aged white woman asked if my daughter was okay. I gave her an utterly horrified look and shouted, “She IS NOT my daughter. I am thirteen, lady!” The poor woman beat a hasty retreat. In retrospect, I should have been nicer to the woman for making an honest mistake. (Also, as soon as I raised my voice, Screaming Demon Sister resumed screaming.)
I think being a part-time nanny aged me. When a friend braided my hair on a band trip in high school, she found my first grey hair. I had just turned 16. It was not an aberration. More grey hairs soon followed.
Screaming Demon Sister and Baby Brother were very good at picking up on their older siblings insecurities. Who can blame them? They needed a weapon to even out a power struggle against bigger, dictatorial siblings. Sometimes they were less than subtle: they called one sibling “Sister Big Nose” for years. But with my worries about premature aging, well, they played a long game.
They bided their time until the day we ran into my High School Crush at the Safeway grocery store. Baby Brother ran to the Personal Grooming aisle and screamed, “Hey, Mom, the Loving Care is over here! You can wash that gray out!” (Anyone else remember that damned jingle?)
High School Crush did a double take. I stammered out something about the hell spawn being my little brother and sister. Screaming Demon Sister put her hand on her hip, snorted, and delivered the coup de grâce: “Oh, yeah, right, MOM.”
High School Crush fled. I was so awed by the masterful, well-executed plan of those little fuckers that I couldn’t even be mad.
Well, not until much later, when my very last high school boyfriend bravely told me that he “loved me no matter what I had done in the past.”
I had no idea what he was talking about and I told him so.
He said, “It’s okay. I know your little sister isn’t really your sister.”
Me: “The hell she isn’t.”
Brave High School Moron: “No need to lie. I’m here for you. I know what that scar on your abdomen is from.”
Me: “So do I. From the appendix I no longer have.”
Brave High School Moron (with an air of palpable self-sacrifice): “I told you, I still love you.”
Me: “This is bullshit. I cannot wait to get to college.”
Brave High School Moron: “Shhh, it’s okay.”
Me: “No, it is NOT okay. I am dating an idiot who can’t tell the difference between a little appendectomy scar and a massive C-section scar!”
Brave High School Moron: “It’s not just that. Jeremy heard from Kevin who heard from Jason, who talked to Kirk who said that your little sister calls you “Mom—”
Me: “Excuse me. I have to go kill two little evil masterminds.”
Of course I couldn’t really kill them. I was just too darn proud.
I did dump the boyfriend, though.
I’m laughing way too hard at this.
“Stop laughing so hard at my story” said no author ever.
Will there be more stories about BSBS and PSCS? I want stories about them! Please?
Um. Some of their stories are a little sadder, but I will try and think of more appropriate ones for this blog.
I bet John Steinbeck didn’t appreciate Hemingway laughing himself sick over the first draft of THE GRAPES OF WRATH.
True story? I did not know that.
It’s not true. But why let truth get in the way of a punchline?
Ah, but the trick is to write the true story in such a manner that the punchline is also true. Still working on that.
How many years of therapy did it take to recover from your childhood?
I’ll let you know when I’m done?
🙂
You had me laughing with this one! I just love how all your family members have funny names in accordance with their personality.
Thank you, Constance! Glad you enjoyed it.
Yes…. I did LOL through this whole piece. No wonder you’re careful not to overpopulate the planet. Lol. One good thing with sibs like those…. plenty of writing material.
Yay, more laughter! Yeah, those two…wait until Baby Brother meets Andy’s parents and sells me down the river.
You actually got “shhh”-ed? At least I had the brains to only do that (once) when you were drunk.
Liar! I never get drunk. But I must have. Because if you had tried to shush me sober…[insert menacing minor chord]
The ‘shh’ part had me cracking up, ahaha.
Have you ever been shushed? It sends me over the deep end when guys do that!
Too funny!!! I like the way you’re proud of the baby siblings from hell and drop the boyfriend.
Thanks, Nicki! Yes, those babies nailed me, but good.
How did your sibling know who was your crush? I was veeeery careful to not disclose that kind of information to anyone in my family, haha. I only have one brother but I have a bunch of very nosy aunts 😉
Eavesdropping. With so many kids in one house, someone is going to overhear you on the phone, and then the teasing commences. Or perhaps it was one of my friends, nudging me, and saying, “Ooooo, don’t look now, guess who’s driving by…” Most of my friends might be discrete around my parents, but you don’t think of a five or six-year-old as that precocious.
You are clearly more discrete than I was, Marta!
Well for me it was easier, there were less people around, haha! But you got tons of funny stories 😀
“Brave High School Moron” haha, that’s accurate.
I nearly keeled over when I read this part:
Brave High School Moron: “No need to lie. I’m here for you. I know what that scar on your abdomen is from.”
Me: “So do I. From the appendix I no longer have.”
Thanks, Eileen! Such an earnest young man. Ugh.
Come on admit it!!! Teenage mom. I am cracking up while I am reading your blog in my office. All my chinese coworkers think I am daft.
I might as well have been a teen mom, for all the babysitting I did. Chinese coworkers, eh? I bet you have some good stories. I’ll need to check those out!
Yes check out my blog, it tell all about my life living in China. I have in China for over two years.
I can’t seem to get to your page, just to the Gravatar profile. Darn you, Word Press! Do you have a link or exact web address?
http://www.chocolatechickinchina.wordpress.com
This is gold. Or diamonds. Or a whole universe selling worth. I cracked up at every single line out there. xDDD
I love your stories!
Thanks, Cosette. Or really, I think you have to thank the demon siblings!
Ahaha. xD I should thank everyone and all! Ho ho ho!