by Janeal Mulaney

Created on: March 24, 2009

Are You the Favorite?

I come from a home where my parents wanted a large family. However it was not meant to be, my mother had several miscarriages, and a premature baby who didn't live for long after her birth. My father had to go buy a baby doll at the store so they would have clothes small enough just to bury my oldest sister in.

They finally got lucky the next child they had was full term and she is my other sister, and then one more time they got lucky and had me, almost three years later. Which is a story within its self. (Maybe at another time I will write about it.)

All through my childhood I heard how I was the favorite by my sister, and to tell the truth I always felt she was the favorite. We were as different as night and day, my sister was very feminine, she liked to cook, sew, and read. She was also great in school and a wonderful artist. She looked like mom and dad; never caused hardly any problems so she hardly got into any trouble.

I was all tomboy and didn't look like either of my parents, I never really applied myself in school, after all it took up eight hours of my day, when I could have been at home with the animals, climbing trees, working on my bikes, and getting my jeans all grease soaked. As I got older, I did the chores that were set for us as quickly as possible, so I could do what I wanted to do, I didn't want to spend any time at all in the house until the sun was down, or there was a blizzard outside. I bucked every rule my parents ever set, if I asked why I couldn't do something, and the only reason I was told was because they said so then I did it anyway. That answer just wasn't a good enough reason for me not to do what I wanted.

I grew up grounded, spanked; and with more time outs then there were days in a year. I was literally my parent's worse nightmare, and that was before I became a teen. Heck my heroes were Bonny and Clyde, which my friends and I played at being daily, in an old van my parents owned. (I still say that was the reason they sold it.) Ha, Ha!

As I grew up I helped my father in the shop, and on his jobs where he needed someone small to crawl in and out of tight places.

The one class I did start liking in school was art, but I was always compared to my sister, who according to my mother was so much better, so I soon started doing poorly in it too. What the heck I wasn't any good at it, so why bother wasting my time on it.

Still I was told I was the favorite, and I still couldn't figure out how my sister felt that way

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>