My two sisters and I used to share a room. It was a small room and we had trouble agreeing on much of the room rules. My oldest sister, Shanna, was seven years old when I was born. My parents allowed her to monopolize half of the square footage in the room. Shelli, two years my senior, and I shared the other half.
Sharing a room with sisters is never an easy task. The half of the room Shelli and I shared contained our bunk beds and our two dressers. Shelli had the bottom bunk; I had the top. The space underneath our bed contained all of our stuff. When we felt really small and adventurous, we would play under the bed. Shelli was very good at making sure I didn’t cross into her space. She was kind of like Eugene Levy’s character from Serendipity.
When I think back to our childhood days of sharing a room, I don’t blame my sisters for being so greedy with their space. I mean, we were pretty poor: we didn’t have a lot of toys. So our space and the air bubbles around us were all we had.
But for some reason, as my sister Shanna got older and ditched the rest of us for her college career, she started to get less concerned with her space. Granted, Shelli and I completely took over “the girls’ room” and made it so Shanna had no space of our own. When Shanna came home for the holidays or for a break, she’d have to sleep on the couch. But as soon as her bed became the couch, she got sort of creepy with her feet. Shanna has (or had) record-breaking cold feet. She would lie on the couch in the middle of the day when we were watching a movie and stretch her ice cold feet into the other people on the couch’s laps. It was appalling and awful. I got to the point where I didn’t even want to sit on the couch with her and would use the floor so I didn’t have those popsicle sticks giving me goose bumps and making my leg hairs grow.
These days, I don’t get much time with my two sisters. During the winter, I moved to Idaho for four months to be with Shelli and help her out while she was on maternity leave (by actually taking over her job while she was gone), but besides that, I haven’t really had quality sister time in years.
I miss sister time. I miss those days when you bicker with your sisters or go shopping for earrings or get ready for a night out. We don’t get to do that stuff anymore, not since kids and husbands got involved. I know that some groups of sisters have this stuff figured out – they have girl weekends they dedicate to just hanging out with the girls they shared rooms and Barbies with. I’m still waiting for that time.
Tata for now.