Last week, I confessed to a not-so-nice game of Hide and Seek. Instead of relating redemptive tales now, to show how much I have matured, I've decided to tattle on my sister. Nyah-nyah.
My dad dubbed my little sister, "MotorMouth," because she talked all the time, (or at the very least, more often than her shy, quiet older sister.) She used her mouth for more than just talking, though. During her toddler years, she had a wee bit of a problem with biting.
Probably after hearing me complain one-too-many times about being on the receiving end of my sister's choppers, my dad taught me the Old Testament version of the Golden Rule. He told me that the next time my sister bit me, I should bite her back. I could not believe what I was hearing!
Armed with that edict, I anticipated my sister's next attack with calm assurance. I knew exactly how to handle the situation, and handle it I did. We were playing in our bedroom when her teeth made contact with my arm, and I quickly retaliated. She ran, surprised and hurt, to our parents. I dove under the bed, not sure that Mom and Dad would remember that I actually had permission to bite. I stayed there until dinnertime, probably 15-20 minutes, but it felt like forever.
I never did get in trouble for biting my baby sister, and she never bit me again.
How did you learn to get along with your siblings?
Thanks for my smart, quick-learning, and forgiving sister. (Don't worry, brother, your turn is coming! I'm thankful for you, too.)
Sew Darn Crafty Party, Find a Friend Friday, Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop, Show Your Stuff, The Wildly Original Link Party, Wow Us Wednesdays, Down Home Blog Hop, Tuesday Archive Link Up, Linky Tuesday at Freemotion by the River, Grandparents Say It Saturday
My dad dubbed my little sister, "MotorMouth," because she talked all the time, (or at the very least, more often than her shy, quiet older sister.) She used her mouth for more than just talking, though. During her toddler years, she had a wee bit of a problem with biting.
My sister's toddler bite was probably only slightly more terrifying than Drexel's. |
Probably after hearing me complain one-too-many times about being on the receiving end of my sister's choppers, my dad taught me the Old Testament version of the Golden Rule. He told me that the next time my sister bit me, I should bite her back. I could not believe what I was hearing!
Armed with that edict, I anticipated my sister's next attack with calm assurance. I knew exactly how to handle the situation, and handle it I did. We were playing in our bedroom when her teeth made contact with my arm, and I quickly retaliated. She ran, surprised and hurt, to our parents. I dove under the bed, not sure that Mom and Dad would remember that I actually had permission to bite. I stayed there until dinnertime, probably 15-20 minutes, but it felt like forever.
I never did get in trouble for biting my baby sister, and she never bit me again.
How did you learn to get along with your siblings?
Thanks for my smart, quick-learning, and forgiving sister. (Don't worry, brother, your turn is coming! I'm thankful for you, too.)
Sew Darn Crafty Party, Find a Friend Friday, Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop, Show Your Stuff, The Wildly Original Link Party, Wow Us Wednesdays, Down Home Blog Hop, Tuesday Archive Link Up, Linky Tuesday at Freemotion by the River, Grandparents Say It Saturday
Same rules in our house growing up! He bites (my brother), I bite back. LOL
ReplyDeleteHa! Your house was always full of excitement, wasn't it?
ReplyDeleteOh, we were taught the very same thing, it only happened once that's all it took one time ...xoxo marissa
ReplyDeleteYou know I don't remember anyone biting at my house. Surely I'm just forgetful? blessings, marlene
ReplyDelete