A Boy’s Life

As the only boy in my family, I always felt sorry for myself because I was surrounded by three sisters and no brothers. I love my sisters, but truth be told as I was growing up I had very few commonalities with them. For example: I was not interested in spending time talking about boys; I never played with their dolls; I was never interested in wearing make-up, eye highlighter, or lipstick; it never bothered me if one of them snuck into my closet and took a shirt to wear to school; nor did their bossiness create problems for me because I never listened anyway.

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I didn’t like being late for everything and it seemed like they never enjoyed being on time and as a result I was usually late because I had to wait for them to finish their hair or do their nails or whatever else sisters do. 

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My main frustration was because I could read a clock while they were very good at ignoring it.

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My mother was also frustrated with their lack of attention to the clock and their seemingly nonchalant approach to being on time. I believed that they spent all week planning ways to  make the family late for church. In fact, I remember very clearly the day mom decided to take action and declare war on the family tardiness pattern. Her plan was implemented without any notice. It was a stroke of genius. One that would cure my sisters’ tardiness.

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Her idea must have struck during the darkness of the night, and she let it incubate quietly in her mind, for I don’t know how long, before her pent-up frustration reached a breaking point, and she acted. It was a brilliant but short-lived plan. She implemented it on a Sunday morning. Unbeknownst to anyone in the family she secretly set the kitchen clock (the only clock anyone ever paid attention to) ahead 15 minutes. 

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I remember the Sunday morning when she did it. Everyone was busy getting ready for church and as the time to leave approached I was ready to go but per usual we were waiting on my sisters. When we finally walked out the door the kitchen clock said we were 5 minutes late, but when we walked into church, we were three minutes early and the congregation was shocked to see us walk into the service on time.

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Later when we got home, my sisters figured out how mom tricked them, so they adjusted their time management skills and by the next week they had returned to their old habits.

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Another thing that drove me crazy with three sisters is that whenever family decisions had to be made, my sisters voted in a block, and I always lost the vote 3-1. Even if my parents voted it was either 4-2 or 5-1. I don’t ever remember a 3-3 tie or being on the winning side of a family vote. A tie was the best it ever got. Either way I lost! Always! 

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It took some time before I learned to adjust my thinking process so I could vote with the winners. It wasn’t until I realized that I would always be the minority, and my sisters would always be the majority and would always control any family vote. I would be forever relegated to living with my sisters’ wishes until one day when I learned the secret to family peace. I finally learned the secret and by voting after my sisters had cast their family ballot and then I would vote with them. In many ways my life became much easier when I accepted where the power was. It rested with my sisters.

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Today, I want to set the record straight about my sisters because I don’t want to give the impression that I am feeling sorry for myself, nor do I want people think that I had a rotten childhood. I tell this story to share a perception that I had as a child and as a somewhat older, ornery teenager. 

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To be honest I had three of the best sisters any brother could ever have. I must admit that in all reality I probably caused them more grief and frustration than they deserved and I’m sure that each of them could tell tales about me that would be much worse and probably true, but they won’t because they are “high class”. I have wonderful sisters who really blessed my life. Today, I recognize that I am much happier and more blessed and grateful than I ever would have been with brothers.

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It’s a well-known fact that most of us make New Year’s Day resolutions and there is a good chance that when we do, we will not keep them. I propose that beginning today we make a commitment (personal resolution) which we WILL keep and that is we let our sisters know that we are grateful that they are our sisters. While we are at it, perhaps we could extend this commitment to include our gratitude for our entire family and let them feel the love we have for them. 

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Sisters (I can speak with experience) are the best and I wouldn’t trade them!