The Older Younger Sister

When I was little my father's aunt and uncle came up from Florida for a visit. As a gift to me and my sister they brought us T-shirts.

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Mine had a Babs Bunny like rabbit on it, surrounded by shopping bags. Because it was around 1990 she was also wearing short skirt, leg warmers and a 80s style tank top. It declared I AM THE BIG SISTER.

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My younger sister, Meghan, also received a rabbit shirt. Her rabbit was surrounded by toys and there may have been a pacifier in its mouth. I don't remember hers as well. Anyway, her shirt declared I AM THE LITTLE SISTER.

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The older sibling is supposed to be taller, and I still am (thankfully) and I did most things first. I had a boyfriend first, I got married first, I drove first, I went to Europe first (although she's been twice) and I moved to Seattle first.

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She did drink coffee first, but that's yucky.

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When people meet us for the first time out here, in Seattle, they assume Meghan's older. She does have the real job with a real paycheck (but my Monopoly "playcheck" is in the mail). She is the responsible one with a dog.

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She is able to cook without causing small fires in her kitchen, and she bosses me around.

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Gone are the days when I could convince her to hand me every toy in the house so I could play with them. I had a giant pile of toys, including duplicates, while she was stuck with something I didn't want to play with...yet.

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We would play games together, play dollhouse, Barbie, dollhouse and watch movies together. We shared a room for a while, and told each other stuff we would never tell our parents. We were close, but we also fought. Telling each other we would never speak to her again. Ten minutes later you could find us playing where we left off.

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My sister moved out here in January and we hang out quite a bit. She has her friends and I have mine, and we all get along. It's fun to have someone who knows you so well.

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It's also funny when we're together with our friends and she snaps "Mo, stop it!" Not unlike how you would tell your pet to stop it. Her friends from school laugh, knowing I'm supposed to be older, and make fun of her bossing me around. I don't really care, if this is how she's going to retaliate and over compensate all those years of me tormenting her, that's cool.

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People laugh and assume she's older. She tells me how to cook, which is not a bad thing, and what to do, and if she does not approve what I'm wearing.

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We were playing softball last night, I was filling in on her team, and everyone was shocked that I was actually the older sister.

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"You're so immature!" Someone told me. Immature? Immature? I'll have you know I'm very mature. I clean the bathroom regularly, I pay off my credit card (in full) every month, I always get my oil changed on time, and am hardly late.

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Just because I've decided stressing about everything is not how I want to kill brain cells, does not make me immature!

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My grandmother always tells me age is just a number, and now that my sister and I are out of college and living as independent adults age is really a number. Her number somehow became bigger than mine.