Miss Tiff is my baby-est sister. She was born on my 18th birthday, In fact, she showed up in January, my older sister had a baby in April and I had one in September.
1989 had a theme in our family.
Now, having a little sister that’s so much younger leads to some issues — mainly that the older ones of us were all more uncles and aunties than siblings, especially when the kiddos were wee. You tend to give orders, you know?
“Y’all quit that!"
“Goddamn it, y’all get in the house right now!"
“Don’t make me get the fly swatter."
When she was little, though, I would torture Tiff endlessly (beginning at Christmas) with this conversation:
Tiff: My birthday is coming.
Me: Nope, it’s my birthday.
Tiff: *blinks* Uh-uh.
Me: Yes, ma’am. It was my birthday first and you were my birthday present.
Tiff: *beginning to turn red* Nuh-UH!
Me: Go ask Daddy.
Tiff: DADDY! Sister says it was her birthday first!
Daddy: Well, it was.
Tiff: But she says I was HER birthday present!
Daddy: Well, you were.
Tiff *burst into a fit*
*All the older siblings crack up*
Daddy: Oh for fuck’s sake, y’all stop teasing each other!
It never got old.
She’s still the neatest birthday present (and that includes the piccolo and the cruise to the Bahamas) that I ever got. ;-)
Much love, y’all.