C’mon, We Were Both Having Fun...

Did anyone hear This American Life over the weekend?

If you’re not familiar with the show, they pick a theme and tell three stories related to that theme (it’s hard to do it justice in one sentence, better to go check them out).

Anyhoo, one of this week’s stories made me think of my sister, and then it made me think about what the twins’ relationship will be like.

Let me give you an example of how our recurring sibling conflict played out…

After a predetermined amount of time without parental supervision (long enough so that they wouldn’t return unexpectedly), I would feign death.

Yes, you heard me. I pretended to die.

Generally from choking, but I would occasionally mix it up with a faux poisoning or perhaps a bogus bump on the head.

So, I would lay on the kitchen linoleum/bathroom tile/living room carpet breathing shallowly as my sister would call out for me.

Once she found me, she would insist that she knew I was faking.

I would lie there.

She would push on me.

I would lie there.

She would shake me.

I would lie there.

She would begin to tear up.

I would slit my left eye slightly in order to see the tears.

The tears would flow and she’d threaten to call our grandmother.

And still I continued the ruse.

Out of desperation and fear, TinTin would finally pick up the phone and dial 7 of the 8 numbers. As her finger hovered over the eighth number, I would pop up saying I was okay.

For some reason she’d be angry about the whole thing.

Like The Lion King on Broadway, the fake dying act went on for years; I took show on the road to places like Dallas, New Orleans, and Biloxi.

On more than one occasion I also:

Put her in a moving box and taped it shut;
Threw sofa cushions at her;
Locked her out of the house;
Barricaded her in a closet;

And I’d still be doing it except I moved out, the ACLU began sending me threatening letters and Greenpeace blocked the entrance to my sister’s room for about three weeks.

In fact if I ever leave the US, I could be hauled before a war crimes tribunal in The Hague.

I could point to several reasons for this behavior, but I’ll narrow it down to just two:

I’m male.

I was an older brother.

But how do twins act? Will the boy pick on the girl?

Anyone? Anyone?
Bueller? Bueller?