FOUR SISTERS – OR IS THIS ANY WAY TO LIVE MY LIFE?

Yes, four (4) sisters. More sisters than I need. You need a sister? Have I got a sister for you. All my life has been populated with women, and although I know how they think, I still don’t understand them. Now when you are not the oldest child in the family, you notice how much power the oldest child can wield. When the oldest child is a girl, brother watch out! They become dictatorial, all powerful, omnipotent, regal, or downright bossy. You won’t see that again until you marry. They make you do everything. They make your life miserable, bossing you around starting each sentence with “Mommy said,” even though Mommy is nowhere to be found.

And where is Dad? Dad is hiding out in some broom closet because he’s tired of being bossed around by two females. One does not limit his misery to just the oldest sister, no he gets younger versions of the same torture, all with their own unique brand or style. Many times I thought I could maybe throw MY weight around because of my position in the pecking order. No way Jose, they yell “MAAAAAA!” And of course Ma is always around too yell, “Leave your sister alone.”

Let me give you an example, and a story that is true as the day is long. One fine Saturday afternoon, during the summer sometime many years ago, when all my Mother’s children still resided at home, I walked into the living room and noticed my Dad was watching a Mets game on the color TV. All of a sudden, one of the younger witches went over to the TV and changed the channel on him. I immediately said “Hey-you can’t do that!” There was an immediate response to that with kicking, biting and punching by the little witch, and as this was going on, one by one all the other witches joined in. Do you know how difficult it is to defend yourself, and NOT belt one of them? Well when the dust cleared, my glasses were broken, my shirt pocket ripped half off, and I had a 3-inch cut on my neck. And where do you ask was my Dad? He went down stairs to watch the black and white TV.

Fighting is not the only past time for this covenant of class A number 1 witches. They could maintain a steady stream of ways to annoy me. One is to run the vacuum cleaner into my feet as they do their chores, or take the dinner hour when I’m sitting at the table in the middle of my meal, enjoying a good pork chop, when sister #3 has a date, but can’t go out until she does the dishes. Well, she just grabs my plate, empties it out in the garbage, and starts to clean the dish. There goes pork chop and all. It didn’t end there, as my Mother sent down orders that I was to become the official photographer of all family events that featured either sister #3 or #4. Sister #3 played the clarinet in the school band, and sister #4 was a baton twirler in the same band. You are talking parades all over Long Island, chasing the band, and shooting the same two until you become downright exhausted. Did it end there? No! “You will help sister #4 with her twirling, she needs practice.” This edict was from Mother #1. And who got the Father’s Day presents? It wasn’t me.

At the age of 18, I decided that I would enter the monastery and become a monk! I figured that if I took a vow of silence, it would be a small price to pay, and I could hold out in some alpine monastery where they couldn’t find me. Thinking that if I took a vow of silence, it would keep them at bay since none of them can keep quiet longer that a few seconds, and it would discourage their tracking me down. The trouble with this little plan was you get bossed around a lot by the head monk, or the monk key.

Don’t get me wrong, I love them all, as long as they stay married, and boss someone else around. As it is, I got my own boss at home, and frankly, I think she was hired by the 4 witches just so life doesn’t get too enjoyable.