National Sibling Day

Today is National Sibling Day, apparently. I have to admit that this is the first time I've heard of the holiday, but I'd like to take the opportunity to give a big shout out to the Vandersibs and the Alexandrosisters and encourage all of you to get in touch with your own siblings to tell them how much you love/hate/envy/badmouth them. In the spirit of the holiday, and to help put to rest all of those rumors about how bad I was as an older brother, I'd also like to share a little story about me and the lesser half of Dariel (a.k.a. Derek).

I'm a little more than four years older than Derek. As time goes on, the age difference between us becomes less and less important, but when I was ten and he wasn't quite six, it was a fairly significant gap. This was especially evident one particular time that Mom and Dad let me babysit the Vandersibs. Someone called the house to leave a message for Mom and Dad, and little Derek innocently asked me who it was. I don't remember if I had been having a bad day or if I was just feeling inspired, but I decided that I would have a little bit of fun. Here's the basic gist of the conversation:

Derek: Who was dat, Lee-Lee?

Me: Well, Derek, do you remember that old homeless lady we saw walking down the street the other day?

Derek (confused because there was no homeless lady but not wanting to disappoint me by saying so): Uh-huh....

Me: Well, that wasn't just any old homeless lady. That was your real mom.

Derek (horrified): My real mom?

Me: Yeah, you see, that old homeless lady sold you to Mom and Dad for twenty bucks. You probably don't remember, since you were just a baby.

Derek (eyes bulging in terror): Mom and Dad ... bought me?

Me: Well, sorta. You see, they only had $10 on them at the time, so they made a deal with the lady that they would pay her the rest later. That's why she was hanging around; she was trying to collect the rest of the money. The thing is, though, that Mom and Dad didn't really feel like paying her the last ten bucks, so your real mom is coming back to pick you up. That was her on the phone just now.

Derek (crushed that our parents wouldn't be willing to pay $10 to keep him): They won't pay her?

Me: I'm afraid not. Come on; we should probably go pack your things. Your real mom will be here any minute to take you away.

Derek (not even trying to hold back the tears): But I don't WANNA go wid da homeless lady!

Me: Hey, that's your real mom you're talking about! (patting his shoulder) C'mon, it'll be exciting! You'll get to live on the street and eat out of garbage cans. You can probably get your own pet rat. And you'll never have to go to school or see any of your friends ever again....

Derek: But ... but ... but I like school!

Me (in a concerned tone): Gee, that's too bad, 'cause your new mom probably can't afford it. Or toys on your birthday. Say, isn't that next week?

Derek (hyperventilating): Uh-uh-uh-huh.

Me: Yikes. Sucks to be you. Well, let's start packing.

Derek: Pack?

Me: Yeah, you have to pack your clothes and stuff before your mom gets here, so you'd better hurry.

Derek: By myself?

Me: Well, I'll help you. But remember, your mom is homeless, so you can't take too much stuff with you. She said that you could only take one bag.

Derek: Just one bag?

Me: Yeah, this oughta do it (picking up a small gym bag from out of his closet).

Derek (even more terrified that he has to pack everything in such a little bag): Wha-wha-what do I take?

Me: Hmmm, that's a tough one. You should probably take a couple of underwear and socks. And you should also pack an extra shirt or two. Maybe that one that Mom and Dad got you at the zoo, so you have something to remember them by.

Derek: The one that says "This Zoo's For You"?

Me: That's the one. Maybe a pair of jeans for when it gets colder. Good. (looking inside the bag) Hmmm, not much room left in there. You can probably only fit one toy.

Derek (totally wigging out now): Just ONE toy?

Me: Yep. Wow, this is going to be really hard. You're gonna want to take your favorite toy, but which one is it?

Derek (looking hopelessly at all of his toys): Just ONE?

Me: Yeah, just the one. Well, it's getting late. I'm going to head downstairs and wait for your mom to show up. Why don't you use the last few minutes you have left to pick out your favorite toy and say goodbye to the rest of them? Hey, stop crying so hard. You don't want to be all snotty when you see your real mom again, do you?

See? Just harmless sibling fun. Hearing it from Derek's shrink, though, you'd think it was abnormal for six-year olds to attempt suicide.