Dear Journal:
Friday night Saturday morning, I awoke to what sounded like buffalo stampeding up the stairs. It was just Michelle. How someone so petite can make so much noise is beyond me, especially since it was well past curfew. I criticize my sister for her issues—of which she has MANY—but being stupid usually isn’t one of them. In fact, she’s usually pretty clever…at least when it comes to pulling the wool over our parents’ eyes.
When I noticed it was after 2 AM, I figured she was drunk. Either that, or she had grown so full of herself that she assumed she’d get off scot-free no matter what she did or how much noise she made.
Turns out, I was correct on both counts.
When I peered out into the hall, sissy was teetering at the top of the stairs with a death grip on the railing. She looked proud of herself, like she’d reached the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro or something.
“Hi, Piggy!” Sissy wheezed. I think it was supposed to be a whisper, but her voice was raspy and hoarse like a demon in a horror movie. She raised a finger to her lips—I’m not sure if it was to quiet me or quiet herself—but she quickly returned it to the railing when her balance faltered.
That’s when Dad emerged from his bedroom wearing a bathrobe and a scowl.
Sissy smiled and attempted another whisper, “Hi, Daddy!” It was no quieter than the first.
“Go back to bed, Jessie,” Dad said, cinching the belt on his robe. He reminded me of a cowboy preparing for a showdown.
I shut my door, but didn’t go back to bed. I wasn’t going to miss the action. My expectations were low—I’ve seen sissy get away with murder simply by saying “sorry” and batting her baby blues (“pretty privilege” is a real thing)—but to dad’s credit, he didn’t fall for Michelle’s innocent ingenue act.
Predictably, she played the “I’m an adult now” card next. That’s been a constant refrain since her 18th birthday last month. Maybe I’ll buy her one of those “Moma, I’m a Big Girl Now!” T-shirts? (I think I’ll wait until she’s a little fatter, though. Give it a double meaning.)
Thankfully, Dad didn’t fall for that either. I couldn’t hear everything through the door, but “you’re grounded” came through loud and clear. I figured sissy might try some waterworks next (blubbering was often her last resort), but instead she went for a double dose of indignity and a wake-the-dead door slam.
Ack, I need to study. I’ll finish my weekend round-up tomorrow.
--Jessie