Jessie and I were recently lamenting sibling rivalry. We commiserated through short stories depicting what was meant to be examples of hyperbole. What her piece and mine had in common was that while exaggerations, they were also realistic portrayals of how our children actually interact.
We also had similar experiences with our own sister and brother. Jessie told me about how she and her sister had to lay a strip of tape between them on the family car’s back seat. Obviously to delineate territorial borders.
I vaguely recall my parents having to do the same with my brother and me… battles lines. I have flashbacks of vicious kick fights when a leg, or toe extended past the neutral zone.
Despite all the bruises and pulled hair, not all competitions with my brother evoke bad memories. Perhaps time has mellowed some of the animosity, but there was one constant game of “one-upmanship” that I laugh about today.
Peanut butter….
When we were kids, my brother and I ate a lot of peanut butter. Even now, I love me a PB&J sandwich (preferably with strawberry jelly on whole wheat toast – warm, melty peanut butter makes me smile).
There is something irresistable about the smooth, unblemished surface of a new jar of peanut butter. Like an unsigned, wet concrete sidewalk slab, that blank canvas was an all too tempting reason for my brother and me to duel over who was the first to dip into the pristine, nutty sandwich spread. Not to be the first to have a taste, but to be the first to clandestinely leave a message for the other, written with a toothpick quill.
I still half expect to see a note from him in every jar I open.
Thin spiral notebook 
That is precious!!!! We used to eat it by the spoonful…and everyone knows the first bite is the best!!!
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Oh My God! I remember the ‘strip of tape’… well not actually tape, but a seam in the upholstery of the back seat. My sister and I could not cross to the other’s side on car trips. Next time try peanut butter and marshmallow.
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Oh, I remember that seam too, and we had our designated sides, no switching. Nutter-Flutter sammiches are delicious.
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I relate to yours and Jessie’s pieces so much. I don’t speak to my sister and the core of the issues is likely located in a pb&j in 1983.
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That’s funny! I might just do it to freak out my PB loving daughter next time I buy a new jar.
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THAT.IS.AWESOME. Great story!
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Ohhhhhhh, you had me at “preferably with strawberry jelly!” Everyone else in the house insists grape is better. Can I come over?!?
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Grape’s okay, but strawberry makes the best PB&Js. I recently found a rhubarb and strawberry conserve that is awesome. I may have to go back and buy a case of it.
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oh….well Dana (my sister) and I have had our share of sibling rivalry. My brother is 9 years younger than I am, so it was more of him being my “baby” with my mom, than having him as a sibling..now we act like that..but he drinks me under the table.
What did we fight about.?? Wow…everything. I stole her boyfriends, she was more popular. She hated the amount of flowers I got, I still want her hair…it’s luxiourious and she is THIN, such a pretty girl.
the funny thing is that we are closer than ever now, (and even back then, we would fight, bloody each other, but if anyone tried to hurt me, my sister would KICK their ass, and honestly she still would. She’s National Guard. 😉
I love the note in the peanut butter, that is such a good memory of growing up, and without a doubt I know that my sister would still fight me for the last Vienna Finger cookie or the crunchy end of a loaf of Italian bread. (but I’d give it to her now…*Wink*)
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I sometimes wonder if I would’ve had a closer relationship with my sibling if I had a sister instead of a brother. My brother and I fought about stupid stuff, and all the time. We never did get along.
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Oh that is AWESOME and hilarious. Scott and his sisters laugh about their childhood rivalries, now. My favorite was the girls all getting mad because Scott would try to hide behind the cereal boxes at breakfast, and cries of “MOM, he’s building a WALL” echoed through the house.
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I’mm sure my brother and I had our fights, epecially on long distance trips, but perhaps it was our 8 yr age difference that keeps me from remembering any of them.
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My brother and I were only 18 months apart in age, and one grade different in school. My kids are 4 years apart, and fought a lot when they were younger. They get along very well now, and that makes me very happy.
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Me and my sister had some real knock out fights. The worst thing I ever did was to get our whole school bus to call her “Ape Face.” Her name is April.
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