sjsprWriting

Two years ago my mother had my second and youngest sister Sarisabel. She is 13 years younger than me and 12 years younger than my other sister Sariana. My mother works a full time job and always appreciates the help with the baby, help which I am always delighted to offer. One day we had to go to Toys R Us to stock up on baby food and diapers. My sister’s heart jumped as we walked down the aisle full of all things Mickey Mouse. She had to touch it all. As I am trying to pry her hands of a huge plushy Mickey I stumbled into an old lady with her two grandkids. I politely apologized and she simply giggled and responded that my daughter was beautiful. I was confused and frankly a little taken back. Couldn’t she tell that was my sister? I was only fifteen. Did she think I was a teen mom? After thinking about it I actually felt insulted. I gave her a smile and walked away quickly. Days passed and I could not get this grandmother’s remark out of my mind. For some crazy reason, I thought back to all those times I played mom and loved it. This is not a pink house with a white fence though, it is real life. Then it came to me, I have always been the oldest within my family and friends so maybe it wasn’t that I wanted to be the mommy maybe I just wanted to be with the kids.