Deidra Alexander's Blog

Another true tale of sisterhood. Pull up a chair and put down all food and beverages. The producers of this blog are not liable for any food related injuries or deaths resulting from reading this blog.

It was some time ago, I was living in a two story house. My sisters’ wee little children were upstairs. I had just put on the twenty-four hour cartoon channel.

My sister canceled cable when she had children so cartoons were a big deal in their young lives. The cable company called asking my sister why she had canceled. I’m sure they were expecting some reply like, ‘It’s too expensive’ or maybe ‘I don’t really watch it that much’.

Did my sister say one of these canned replies? Nay, nay, she said, “I canceled cable to get the devil out of my life.”

She was serious, but that answer was actually genius. I use that one and the voices in my head told me to when any telemarketers call.

So, it was a dark winter evening, I had settled the children in front of the TV when my sister came running upstairs.

She pulled me in the restroom and asked, “Are all the kids up here?”

And of course they were.

“Then there’s someone in the kitchen,” she said.

My house had been broken into a few weeks before, so it was not beyond the realm of possibility that someone could have come back. We gathered the children and put them in one bedroom. Then my sister and I went to investigate.

You might wonder, “Why not call the police?”

The only phones were in the kitchen and the master bedroom, both downstairs. We crept down, careful to make no noise. My sister was in front of me. Imagine a tall woman with flowing auburn hair in flannel pajamas and a little short one in back wearing something less than appropriate. That was me.

I was holding tightly to the back of my sister’s pajamas. The kitchen was on the left, my bedroom the right. We got to the bottom of the stairs. The light was on. The refrigerator door was wide open.

I shoved my sister into the kitchen. Her arms were flailing and she was tripping over her feet. I ran for the bedroom, and grabbed a gun and the phone. This was years ago and my sister is still whining about the time I sacrificed her to the burglar. I figured she would distract him and I would be back in time to save her.

And by the way, she left the light on and didn’t shut the refrigerator door. There was no burglar. She always makes me walk in front now.

Read Full Post »

My sister is mad at me … again.

My niece’s name is the source of several of our conflicts. I told her to pick a name that could not be made fun of, children and aunts can be so cruel. But my sister went with Elizabeth despite my warning.

When she was an infant, Elizabeth thought lizard gizzard the funniest thing ever.

When she was a toddler, I taught her to sing Lizzie Borden. Nothing’s creepier than hearing that sweet toddler voice sing “she gave her mother fifty whacks”.

And now, I received the softest throw for my birthday. It looked like it was made of tiny feathers. My niece asked, “It’s so soft, what’s it made of?”

My sister gave me the evil glare and said, “No.” Like I was a dog or her kid.

Answers ran through my head: the Easter Bunny, the skin of the last unicorn, or the wings of a thousand fairies. There’s the tooth fairy and that was your fairy godmother.

Instead I said, “The petals of the softest, most beautiful flowers in the world. Do you know what they’re called?”

“No.”

“Lizzie, they were named after you.”

Now my sister’s totally ticked. Her daughter won’t respond to Elizabeth any more. Now she’s Lizzie. Next stage, get her to nickname herself “E”, since I’m “D”. On to my niece Georgina.

Auntie’s coming G.

Addendum: I was asked if plucking the wings from fairies hurts them. I’m not sure about that, but it definitely slows them down.

Read Full Post »