Sisters in Crime

Somebody said the other day, in a Facebook post, that my sister was my partner in crime.

I don't know that I would go that far, we never actually got charged with anything, but we have been through a lot in our years together.

It all started in 1955 when I invaded her life, and she became the oldest of three children, instead of two.  She was 7 years old when I came along.

She was my protector and my antagonist. I remember the three of us would cower behind the bedroom door when Mother and Daddy were having an argument. She would hold me and try to keep me from crying.
She also was the ring leader of our horsey games, where she and He Who Shan't Be Named were beautiful stallions and I was the pack mule. Seems I would do anything for a sugar bit.

As we grew older, I admired her from afar. There is a huge difference between being 9 years old and being 16 years old. I'm sure she hated sharing a  bedroom with  me, but it couldn't be helped.

Then I started getting older. And I know she resented some of the things that I was allowed to do at an earlier age than she was.

She was brilliant, but she worked very hard for her scholarship and for her awards. She carried home armloads of books every night, and stayed up til the wee hours studying. I barely cracked a book and got by just fine. I wasn't as interested in the highest grades, I just wanted to pass.

She wasn't allowed to wear makeup til she was 16. I was wearing false eyelashes at 14. She didn't date til she was 16. I married at 16. I blame this on the fact that society, as a whole, was very different after 1969...the summer of love...the summer we landed on the moon...the summer of Woodstock and of innocence lost at the hands of the Manson gang. She was 16 in 1964....I was 16 in 1971. Very different times.

As the years passed,  the gap began to close up. Not entirely, but it was starting to. There are still things that I am ashamed of to this day.
I'm sorry that I snapped at my husband and He Who Shan't Be Named at her wedding. Seems there really WAS a bug on my hat when they were trying to take pictures.
I'm sorry that Mother's situation spilled over to me and colored my reaction to the awkward position she was in. One of my life's biggest regrets is that, because of that, I didn't invite her to my wedding. I hope she has forgiven me for that.
I'm sorry that I allowed my husband to isolate me and keep me and my children away from the rest of my family, to the point that they can count on one hand the times they got to visit their aunt.

Aw well....enough.....back to the partners in crime. Once we were both grown, that gap, as I said, closed up.
She took me to the bars and dance halls when I was under age, advising me to just stroll in like I owned the place.

She had a friend one time that she wanted to play a practical joke on. She had me write him a long detailed letter, as if I were a young, beautiful widow woman, in need of a strong handsome cowboy type handyman to help me run my ranch, and take care of the twins, Hanna and Barberra. The job came with 'benefits'. We had him chomping at the bit for a while over the prospect.

It was tradition that she would take me along when it was time to pick out new glasses frames. There were several stores along Camp Bowie Boulevard that sold the best designer frames. We would go in and have every intention of being serious about the whole thing, but something would overcome us, and I'd start handing her rhinestone cat frames, and purple frames and Sally Jesse Raphael frames....and we'd giggle....and giggle....until one time, the proprietor of one such hotsy totsy place, actually asked us to leave, because we were not taking our shopping seriously enough.

We also liked the Hallmark Shops. Did you know that 9 out of 10 greeting cards have the same rhythm to their rhyme? They do....try it some time...we did...across the aisles.

*+*+*opens card*+*+
Da DA da DA da DA da da
Da DA da DA da DA.
Da DA da DA da DA da da
Da DA da DA da DA!!

More giggles....more nasty looks from sales clerks....more fun.

Unfortunately we were never able to pull off what would have been our piece de resistance of pranks.
I was going to dress in my frilliest, girliest dress, the picture of femininity.  Pam was going to wear her boots and jeans and a pearl snap shirt, with her cowboy hat. The picture of ....well....not feminine.
She would open my car door, light my cigarette, open the shop doors, be very solicitous of my needs....

And we were going to go downtown to the Christian Science Reading Room and hold hands.

It would have been funny back in the 70's....no one would notice now.

They say when you get older you start to relive your childhood....hmmmm...I wonder what we could get into now..... ;-)