Oh the tribulations of growing up with a tomboy for an older sister…..Where my sister had
Oh the tribulations of growing up with a tomboy for an older sister…..Where my sister had long caused my mother a lot of aggravation in her hatred of wearing dresses, let alone anything particularly pretty, and how particularly unfitting for a girl to always be playing outside with the boys. It was compounded by how she constantly expressed how unfitting it was for a boy to spend all his time reading in his bedroom instead of playing outside with other boys.There would only be so much that my mother could take and things would eventually come to ahead. Fast forward in time, at a distant cousins baptism, I would be getting somewhat used to being the one that wore the dresses on such occasions, being assumed to be the pretty daughter of the family. With my sister’s hair cut short and mine grown long, by looking at us, no one would have ever believed that she was anything other than a rambunctious young boy, and I was a gentle, sensitive, pretty young lady. How she so savored, that it was I that was now being prettied up, teasing me in my “airy fairy, pretty dress”, until I would tell her to stop being so immature. How she so savored flipping my skirt, reveling in it being I that experienced the horror of having my intimate pretty underwear revealed, eventually reducing me to tears and inducing mother’s rage, ordering her to “Stop teasing your sister!” -- source link