LJ Idol Season 8: Week 2; Three Simple Words
The most horrific thing my sister ever said to me as a child was:
“You are Chinese."
Not that she was being racist, oh no. She didn’t mean to insult or mock Asian people, she just wanted to convince me that I was Chinese and that I was adopted. She pulled out the hospital photo taken of me and there I was with a head full of black hair and my eyes half closed. She said, “Look! You had black hair in a family full of blondes! Your eyes were squinty! You are Chinese and mom adopted you!”
I’d look at that photo and cry. I was convinced. I was the little Asian child in a family full of blondes. My mom wasn’t my real mom. My sister wasn’t my real sister. My family was not my real family and that just broke my heart.
Never mind that I looked like this:
Reddish blonde hair, blue eyes... Yes, I had a head full of black hair when I was first born, but that didn't last but a few weeks. Before long, I had such light hair, I looked bald until I was over a year old.
My sister was just that good. Either that or I was just very gullible as a little kid... Probably a mixture of both.
My sister was good at tormenting me though. She was 6 years older than I was and it seemed to be her mission in life to find or invent ways to torture me and make me cry. She would often scream, “I hate you!” at the top of her lungs.
Whenever she did, I’d just hug her close to me and say, “But I love you”.
Twice, I had to use the bathroom while she was getting ready for school in the morning. Twice I ran to my mom crying, “She sprayed hair spray in my eyes!” And twice I had to use the shower nozzle to rinse my eyes out. Not once, but TWICE .
Mom eventually had to ban her from using the hairspray to make her stop. She was a child of the 80’s, so you know that was pretty detrimental to her mental health and social standing.
She did love me though, and made it clear the time that I once again, had to use the bathroom and decided that since my sister wasn’t around, I could sneak in without being sprayed in the face with something. Within minutes, my sister burst through the door screaming, "You need to tell someone where you are going at all times!!!!”
Apparently no one knew I went to the bathroom and sent a search party out for me. She proceeded to spank me until my mom broke us up. She scared me so badly though, that for the next few years, I even woke my mom up in the middle of the night to say, "Mom, I’m just going to the bathroom...”
Yes... My darling sister. How she tormented my childhood with her sassy attitude and raging temper tantrums. Compared to her at that age, I was an angel regardless of what I did. As we’ve grown and matured, we’ve gotten through those childhood torture sessions and now have a peaceful existence together.
Most of the time anyway.
My baby brother on the other hand, was an obnoxious little monster at times, often making noises to plain annoy somebody... especially her. On long, boring car trips, he’d suddenly just start adding dialogue tags to our conversations. It would go something like this.
Denice: "What do we want for dinner tonight?”
William: "She said."
Me: "I don’t know, I’m kind of in the mood for tacos...”
William: "She pondered out loud."
Denice: "Shut up William, you’re annoying."
William: "She sneered."
Denice: "STOP It!”
[Pause]
[Pause]
William: "She yelled.”
And well… you get the picture. Most every car trip we took after that, at some point, he would start up with the dialogue tag game. Where he came up with that? I couldn’t tell you. His antics never affected me, but drove my sister absolutely crazy. I couldn’t help to join in on the fun at times either. For the record, I was in my 20’s.
Denice: "What are we going to do for dinner tonight?” (My sister always likes talking about food)
William: "She asked.”
Me: "He said.”
William: "She said.”
Me: "He said.”
Until finally, my sister would yell, "STOP IT! Both of you!”
A few moments of silence as we drove down the road to our destination while my baby brother and I chuckled at each other. He couldn’t contain himself though, and before long, a tiny voice would pipe up from the back seat.
“She screamed loudly."
“You are Chinese."
Not that she was being racist, oh no. She didn’t mean to insult or mock Asian people, she just wanted to convince me that I was Chinese and that I was adopted. She pulled out the hospital photo taken of me and there I was with a head full of black hair and my eyes half closed. She said, “Look! You had black hair in a family full of blondes! Your eyes were squinty! You are Chinese and mom adopted you!”
I’d look at that photo and cry. I was convinced. I was the little Asian child in a family full of blondes. My mom wasn’t my real mom. My sister wasn’t my real sister. My family was not my real family and that just broke my heart.
Never mind that I looked like this:
Reddish blonde hair, blue eyes... Yes, I had a head full of black hair when I was first born, but that didn't last but a few weeks. Before long, I had such light hair, I looked bald until I was over a year old.
My sister was just that good. Either that or I was just very gullible as a little kid... Probably a mixture of both.
My sister was good at tormenting me though. She was 6 years older than I was and it seemed to be her mission in life to find or invent ways to torture me and make me cry. She would often scream, “I hate you!” at the top of her lungs.
Whenever she did, I’d just hug her close to me and say, “But I love you”.
Twice, I had to use the bathroom while she was getting ready for school in the morning. Twice I ran to my mom crying, “She sprayed hair spray in my eyes!” And twice I had to use the shower nozzle to rinse my eyes out. Not once, but TWICE .
Mom eventually had to ban her from using the hairspray to make her stop. She was a child of the 80’s, so you know that was pretty detrimental to her mental health and social standing.
She did love me though, and made it clear the time that I once again, had to use the bathroom and decided that since my sister wasn’t around, I could sneak in without being sprayed in the face with something. Within minutes, my sister burst through the door screaming, "You need to tell someone where you are going at all times!!!!”
Apparently no one knew I went to the bathroom and sent a search party out for me. She proceeded to spank me until my mom broke us up. She scared me so badly though, that for the next few years, I even woke my mom up in the middle of the night to say, "Mom, I’m just going to the bathroom...”
Yes... My darling sister. How she tormented my childhood with her sassy attitude and raging temper tantrums. Compared to her at that age, I was an angel regardless of what I did. As we’ve grown and matured, we’ve gotten through those childhood torture sessions and now have a peaceful existence together.
Most of the time anyway.
My baby brother on the other hand, was an obnoxious little monster at times, often making noises to plain annoy somebody... especially her. On long, boring car trips, he’d suddenly just start adding dialogue tags to our conversations. It would go something like this.
Denice: "What do we want for dinner tonight?”
William: "She said."
Me: "I don’t know, I’m kind of in the mood for tacos...”
William: "She pondered out loud."
Denice: "Shut up William, you’re annoying."
William: "She sneered."
Denice: "STOP It!”
[Pause]
[Pause]
William: "She yelled.”
And well… you get the picture. Most every car trip we took after that, at some point, he would start up with the dialogue tag game. Where he came up with that? I couldn’t tell you. His antics never affected me, but drove my sister absolutely crazy. I couldn’t help to join in on the fun at times either. For the record, I was in my 20’s.
Denice: "What are we going to do for dinner tonight?” (My sister always likes talking about food)
William: "She asked.”
Me: "He said.”
William: "She said.”
Me: "He said.”
Until finally, my sister would yell, "STOP IT! Both of you!”
A few moments of silence as we drove down the road to our destination while my baby brother and I chuckled at each other. He couldn’t contain himself though, and before long, a tiny voice would pipe up from the back seat.
“She screamed loudly."