I have four older sisters, but I didn’t live with all of them at the same time for very long, partly because we have such an age gap (I’m the youngest, and my oldest sister and I are 14 years apart) and partly because of my parents’ divorce.
Before I go any further in this story, I feel the need to explain my bizarre and dysfunctional family tree. Basically, all of my sisters and I have the same mom, but the older three have a different dad, who my mom divorced and then married my dad. She divorced him too, but that’s not really the point. Here’s a picture.
Anyway, I don’t remember much about spending time with my older sisters as a kid. That said, I do have a few memories that stand out in my mind as “sister” memories, like the time Danielle and I put Marie’s lipstick on the dog to prove to our dad that she had lips, or the time I snuck into the pantry the night before Danielle’s birthday and ate all of the frosting that was supposed to go on her cake. There are many stories of my sisters and I terrorizing each other as children, but not very many of them involve Misty and I. The following is one of the few that do:
When I was really young, maybe three or four because I wasn’t in school yet, Misty had a couple pets: a crawdad named Fred and a goldfish named Bill. Bill and Fred were tankmates. Misty liked Bill and Fred a lot, which is weird to think about now because she hates things that crawl (like crawdads). Bill and Fred’s tank was in Misty’s bedroom, along with a lot of drill team junk, including a giant ceramic boot full of Tootsie Rolls. This is significant because when I was a little kid, I loved Tootsie Rolls a whole lot. They were up there with dinosaurs and coloring books in my world. So every now and then, when Misty wasn’t home, I’d sneak into her room and eat some Tootsie Rolls. Looking back, she probably knew about it. If not, surprise, Misty, I ate your Tootsie Rolls.
Anyway, one day I went into Misty’s room for my usual Tootsie Roll heist when, horror of horrors, there weren’t any in there. So I recruited Danielle, who was my partner in crime (though I didn’t share the Tootsie Roll idea) and we decided that the cure to our boredom would be to drop a whole bunch of random shit into Bill’s tank. I remember lots of fish food, a deck of cards and probably a bunch of legos and small toys made their way to the bottom of Bill and Fred’s Tank. I don’t know if it was the massive quantity of fish food or just the trauma of having army men dropped on his head, but by the time Misty got home, Bill had gone to the big fish bowl in the sky. She was really, really upset, and she brings it up all the time.
In fact, Misty recently bought a cactus for Danielle (we’re gathering cacti for her. No reason, just because it’s funny) and named it Bill II aka Bill the Survivor- provided Danielle doesn’t let it die, of course. Here’s Bill II:
So that’s how, at the age of four, I became a fish murderer. Don’t worry, PETA, I’ve yet to live it down.