Those are my sisters, Taylor and Chase. Yep, they are pretty, awesome, and pretty awesome. Growing up with them was a big ball of emotional excitement. Since I was the youngest, they provided me with years of gently (and sometimes roughly) used hand-me-downs. There are tons of great things about having two older sisters, but since getting married and getting a crash course in the world of Men, I feel like a brother would’ve taught me some very important things.
For one, I don’t think I would be so terrified and appalled by the existence of bugs. I would’ve spent so many years finding them in my room or getting them dropped down the back of my shirt that I might have developed a stronger immunity to their creepy-crawliness by now.
Our house was bursting with hairbows, Barbies, and glitter glue. I feel like a little extra testosterone in the house would’ve helped me with my extended tomboy phase, which might’ve been caused by my lack of a brother. I was the one who went hiking with my dad, made mud pies for my dogs, and asked for (and received) an awesome Hot Wheels track for Christmas. Maybe I would’ve grown out of that sooner, or at least had someone to build loop-de-loops with. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so painfully awkward around boys for the first two decades of my life. Maybe by now I would be in the habit of wearing make-up everyday instead of owning a three-year-old tube of mascara that’s still half-full.
I would also have all those fun brother stories that other girls like to tell with each other. Tortured sisters have an unspoken bond as they discuss the horrors they endured as children. I used to know a girl who referred to her little brother as “Icky-Sticky.” As in, “Icky-Sticky snuck in my room and spit on my pillow this morning.” Or, “Icky-Sticky put grape jelly in my American Girl doll’s hair.” I don’t have any of these stories, so I can only stand there and look sympathetic. Having a brother would’ve given me stories to tell, as well as helped me prepare for any icky or sticky things my husband may do.
I wouldn’t change my family, of course. Sometimes I just wonder what it would’ve been like to have a brother. One thing is absolutely certain, though. If I had a brother, I definitely wouldn’t need this book my father-in-law sent me to take care of my cluelessness about sports:
Panda Poses 
Enjoy!
Love it! I am the oldest four girls and I think you and my youngest sister are very alike. She is the one who played softball and (still) goes to the baseball games with my Dad. The rest of us were inside with our Barbies while she was outside playing catch. I’ll have to ask her how she feels about not having a brother!
Thank you so much for such a thoughtful comment! I like to think the youngest of a group of girls always gets a bit of the tomboy qualities… Maybe because my dad realized no sons were coming and he would just have to make do and teach me about muscle cars anyway! :)
Haha, maybe that’s it!
I was one of the tortured ones….your father and uncle were my brothers. I think I only owned one Barbie, and my brothers stripped the knees of my Skipper with the bendable joints. I did learn to play with horned toads, go dumpster diving, and understand the play-by-play on almost every sport. I will tell you that all of that terrific experience did not make me immune to insects, spiders, or snakes. I always wondered what it would have been like to have a sister…to stay up late at night sharing secrets, painting fingernails, etc… Alas, my mascara is dried up as well.
Haha! It sounds hard to grow up with Dad and Uncle Andrew. I’ve heard the stories! I’m glad you survived, and at least you don’t have to read Football for Dummies. I guess the ideal combo would be two boys and two girls, so everyone gets a brother and a sister… But four kids is a lot! I’m thankful for my sisters, and all my Barbies are doing just fine in a box in my parents’ attic. :)