************For the heck of it, I thought it might be fun for us to share some things about ourselves. I'm curious to know how many brothers and/or sisters you grew up with and the influence you had on them or they had on you.
Here's my story. I grew up with four brothers, two older and two younger than me, and zero sisters. (Seated in the 1955 photo above in our pajamas from left to right are: Tommy, Bobby, Shaddy, Carly and Johnny). If you can picture us as a sandwich, I was the sweet inner layer nestled between two slices of bread on my left and two on my right. If you were to ask my brothers, I'm sure they'd differ with me on that description. I suspect they'd compare me to the fuzzy mold that grows on bread when it gets pushed to the back of a pantry shelf and eventually reappears in its multi-colored and shocking glory!
Being the only girl, I suspect I MAY have been spoiled upon occasion, similar to that disgusting loaf of bread I mentioned earlier. Crying got me out of drying dishes and into pretty clothes I just HAD to have.
My younger brothers suffered greatly under my attempts to teach them addition and subtraction in mock classroom settings. I operated under a "spare the rod and spoil the child" teaching method. Poor Carl and John! It never dawned on me that fear is NOT an effective tool for instruction. In contrast, my older brothers wisely kept their distance from me to avoid similar unpleasant encounters.
I'll only dig myself deeper into the depths of humiliation if I continue on, thus, I turn the stage over to you.
Tell me your most revealing sibling stories. Remember, true confessions reap repentance and hope for possible forgiveness.