Tween Wisdom

I was eleven and convinced that I had been adopted - in the way that you're convinced of things when you're eleven. Meaning that I was convinced of it every time my mom made me pick up the dishes or set the table or leave my sister alone.

That was the kicker.

I was always being getting in trouble for bothering my sister. Apparently my being older required that I be filled with self-discipline and good judgment. When my 6 year old sister hit me or threw things at me or poked me or licked me or bit me, I should calmly say to her, "I don't like it when you do that." And then walk away.

Looking at it now, it seems like a sort of good skill.* But at 11? Think again.

Any woman who would expect me to hold my tongue in the face of a tyrannical six year old clearly was not my real mother.**

Hence, I found myself locked in the bathroom one afternoon screaming through the door at my mother, "If YOU WERE MY REAL MOTHER, YOU WOULDN'T TREAT ME THIS WAY!"

And my mother, being the quick thinker that she is, responded, "Well, maybe if you were my real daughter, you wouldn't treat me this way."

Gasp.

What? What did she just say?

Maybe a risky move, but it worked.

She's not my mother?! HA! We look exactly alike! Everyone knows she's my mother! My sister and I look exactly like! We all look exactly the same! She's so ridiculous. Good grief. (Because I didn't use profanity when I was 11. I was Holy.)

So after that I only complained that things were Unfair, which was not nearly as satisfying as complaining that I was adopted.

Which leads me to wonder - what will I blame for the bad days when law school is over?


*Although I'm still not entirely sold on it.
**I love you, little sister. :)