It's funny how distanced we are from family in college. There's the obvious "college, no parents!" but the physical distance is evident, too. Family is always a phone call away, but a gap grows as we lead separate lives. For those of us with brothers and sisters, it's strange to think how inseparable we were, like it or not, for 18 years, but now we only see each other on breaks and talk on occasion.
Suddenly the days of fighting over the TV, the computer and snack foods are over. I am the older sister by two years, and I've always been uncomfortable with the role. Acting as the family trailblazer and the "more mature" one is rough. As the oldest, we are the examples of good and bad behavior, and we're expected to "know better." There's also a lot of pressure as we get older to be the "cool one." The cool older sister gives her younger brother wise advice about girls and buys her underage sibling Jack Daniel's for Christmas.
When my brother and I were really little, he had a plastic Prince Eric (from "The Little Mermaid") action figure that he loved and allegedly I hid. He was inconsolable for weeks, and my mother had to call numerous toy stores in the area to buy another one for him. I say I "allegedly" hid it because I was 4, he was 2 and the year was 1990. I also feel, as the accused, there are several issues that should be highlighted. First, "The Little Mermaid" was my thing. Second, maybe I was just being cute and playing a hiding game and was wrongly accused of theft. The youngest ones always get more sympathy, I tell you.
Then there's this really embarrassing home video my mother likes to show to anyone I invite home of me improvising a 5-minute song about chicken. Bear in mind this is of me around the same time of my Prince Eric kidnapping. As I'm singing, making up the words as I go along, my brother keeps chiming in about Captain Hook. We were obsessed with Disney.
But this had no relation to my song. My song was about chicken.
So in the midst of singing I turn to my mom, who is holding the camera, and plead with her: "Mommy, say 'shut up' to him." He was interrupting my creative flow, and my frustration at my little brother is captured forever on videotape -- well, probably not forever unless my mom converts our tapes to DVDs. But still. Evidence on tape of acting like a mean sister! Caught in the act.
In June 2007, The New York Times published a study that found the eldest sibling in a family tends to have a higher IQ. To be snarky, I cut this out of the paper and stuck it to our fridge at home. I mean, the scientists said the oldest was the most "dutiful and cautious" one. I had to represent for the first-borns. Although, dutiful and cautious seem a bit more like negatives than positives. Who's dutiful and cautious when doing a beer bong -- am I right?
But this made me wonder: Do the oldest children greedily steal all the smarts for themselves? Since we are inherently born with more face time with the parents, should we spend our time making up for it? And how so? Not by letting the younger brother play Xbox for four hours when Project Runway is on, let me tell you.
And how can you be a good sister if you're so far away? Not far away as physically an hour by car, but far away in terms of who knows what either of us is doing. Do we really want to know what sketchy antics our younger brothers and sisters are getting into? We are all too familiar with our own sketchy deeds from our early college and high school years as well as our current bad decisions. Are you a better sister when hiding Prince Eric dolls or when you call your brother every so often with no better advice to give than "Don't drink too much?" I may have to set a good example and take a couple Jägerbombs to really figure it out.
Mary's column runs biweekly Fridays. She can be reached at mbaroch@cavalierdaily.com.
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