Why Every Girl Should Live With Her Sister Part One

Me and JenFor about two years my sister and I lived together in Old Towne Alexandria, Virgina.  I was 24 and she was 28 when we began that experience.  We divorced when our life changes made it clear that maybe it would be better to have a little space, but I still had visitation rights.  By “visitation rights” I mean that I kept a key and would show up whenever I wanted.

See, that’s what’s nice about living with your sister…

When we moved into this townhouse, I was skeptical.  Afterall, besides the piano from the previous owner, there were boxes on the floor and a couple of camping chairs.  No table.  No couch.  Nada.  We shared her bed for a little while–not that I minded.  Growing up we always slept together.  Before long, we (she) bought a bed from a friend, and I soon had my own little space in the room next door.

We (she) bought a couch from a friend–and before long we (she) bought a new white couch.  I know what you’re thinking…a white couch? Who in their right mind would buy a white couch?  Weeeellll…  We (she) added a leather recliner chair (not the super comfortable kind), and a giant table.  Smart moves.

The added couch meant that we could have friends over, and they would have a place to sit.  The table meant that we could have friends over and they would have somewhere to eat.  The awesome backyard patio meant that we could have friends over and play games out back.  The yard meant we had to mow.

We (she) bought a lawn mower right away.  That was the first thing I broke.  The yard was tiny–and this was an electric lawnmower.  Whoever decided electric lawn mowers were a good idea has never almost ran over extension cords.  They’ve never had to stop mowing to move the cord to a different place.  And they’ve never sent the blade through the roof of the plastic electric lawn mower.  I have.  Did you know that Home Depot accepts those things back when you break them like that?  Our’s did anyway…

My sister prepared me for my current experience in ways I didn’t anticipate:  in our first winter, she refused to use the heat.   “Put on more clothes!” she’d say.  “Wear socks!” she’d say  (as if that was the answer to Northern Virginia winters…).  In the summer, she didn’t want to use the air.  Did I mention that our townhouse was three stories (including the basement).  So imagine the heat upstairs.  “Open your window!” she’d say.   “Take off clothes!” she’d say (as if we all had a skinny body that people liked to see naked).  Now, I count myself lucky that I had that experience–as our Northern Mexico winter gets pretty chilly at night (not to mention our sweltering summers!).

Who knew that older sister could sometimes be right?

To be continued…

5 responses

  1. Aw, you didn’t forget about me after all!! I’m still not convinced you’re not trading me in for this baby business, but this sounds like maybe I won’t be completely forgotten.

    Can you believe you were only 24?!? You were a baby!!

    And that lawn mower incident still makes me laugh. You were only about two rows in when you destroyed it. What a great couple of years. I’m only sad it didn’t last longer. 😦 Love you lots.

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