A friend recently wrote about the tight bond she and her siblings share. I’m an only child, so the world of siblings completely mystifies me. I've always imagined siblings would be comrades in arms, buddies, co-conspirators. That they would play together and have tons of fun and have secret lives separate from their parents. So the first time one of my children hit the other, I was shocked. SHOCKED. This was not How It Was Supposed To Be. My husband, the youngest in a family of five, was more blasé. Siblings apparently do violence to one another from time to time. It’s not be encouraged, but it is a reality.
So this morning, I was attempting yet again to pump up Miss M about having a younger brother. The results fell flat.
500Jerk (enthusiastically): It’s good to have a sibling, isn’t it?
Miss M (noncommittal): Sometimes.
500Jerk: I mean, I never had a sibling growing up. It must be fun.
Miss M: Hmmmmm. . . .
500Jerk: So it’s nice to have someone to play with, right?
Miss M: I guess. You know, really, the best thing about having a sibling is that there’s always someone to blame.