Friday, March 3, 2017

3/3/17 #sol17 Toilets and Torture

Toilets and Torture


An apple had just exploded in my eye and my sister Emily, three years younger, was immediately filled with regret for hurtling the fruit.

This feeling of disaster followed by sisterly solidarity wasn't an unfamiliar pattern. As children, Emily and I fought incessantly. So much, in fact, that our traumatized baby sister Katie at one point requested to move in with Puff Daddy and the family. Our mom used to make us plan prayer meetings for each other in the hopes of divine intervention. Aunts and uncles avoided us.We were awful. 

There's a reason only adorable
baby pictures of us exist.
I think we must have refused to be
photographed together as middle schoolers.
Things Emily and I damaged over the course of middle school:

  • A toilet. For real. While sitting on the pot, Em blocked me from opening the door by using her feet to push against the door. I pushed back too hard and suddenly water gushed everywhere as the bowl cracked. 
  • Front door window panes. She locked me out and I pounded on the window. In my fury, the window shattered. 
  • The picture window at the bottom of the stairs. After a fierce chase through the house, one last shove resulted in another broken window.
I can remember vividly the blinding rage, followed immediately by desperate accord. We'd cook up a story for our parents, usually involving one of our knees popping out of place (we both had weak knees, so this story was both entirely plausible and earned us sympathy. Bonus!). 

It wasn't until we'd moved out of the house and had jobs and our own identity that Emily and I were able to broker some peace. Now, she and Katie are my best friends, the first ones I call when I'm stressed or happy. I can hardly believe that we are the same girls who went out of our way to torture one another. 
Jacob (9) and Justin (7).
Fighting. Again.

Recently my boys, 9 and 7, have started to remind me an awful lot of Emily and me. They just bug the crap out of each other. Breathing the same air is a form of torture. I am so tired of intervening and peace-making. I'm about to resort to prayer meetings in my own hopes of divine intervention. I can't wait until they move past this moment and become best friends they way my sisters and I are now. 

I just hope they don't break any toilets in the process. 

Emily, Katie and Angela


  1. Isn't this the truth! I have three girls. Man, some days they are just adorable and play so we'll together. Then there's the bad days. My middle sometimes flips out because someone looked in her general directions. I saw a meme the other day on facebook that said, parent challenge: take a shot each time your child whines about something - just kidding, you'll die if you do that! Good luck to ya!

  2. I wonder why it was so hard when you were little? Fascinating! So great that you are close now. Parenting is hard! You must have given your parents a "run for their money" !

  3. I can definitely relate to this! My sister and I were the same way growing up! We fought over big things, like feeling the other was prettier or smarter, and little things, like "she took my hair band without asking!" It was always worse when we went on vacation too. Instead of being appreciative that my parents were taking us to the beach, or to Disney, or the mountains, the close proximity made us so annoyed with one another. We always ruined a least one evening with a knock down drag out fight that carried over into nasty attitudes for days. But today, she is my best friend. We were each other's maid of honor, and I know I can trust her with any thing. So glad for her in my life, but there were a lot of years I wouldn't have believed I would ever feel this way! Thanks for sharing! I love your writing!