Photo by: vancouverbyte via https://www.flickr.com/photos/vancouverbyte/
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Photo by: vancouverbyte via https://www.flickr.com/photos/vancouverbyte/
Photo of Callie and I on a bus years later (faces washed out for privacy on social media).
When I was a kid, I was very quiet – as a shy youngest child of a family of six I was never the loud and rambunctious kid, in fact in school I was so quiet that sometimes other kids in my class would joke that maybe I didn’t (or couldn’t talk at all). But there were definitely some times when my cheeky youngest sister came out in full force, and this was one of those times! It was a spring school day when I was about six years old and my older sister Callie and I were on the bus ride home from school. Callie is several years older than me, so at this point she would have been in her teens and reluctantly bringing her little sister home was a very uncool task in her mind but one that she had to do. Now, on our bus ride home, Callie and I often argued over which stop we should get off at. You see, our house was almost smack dab in the middle of two bus stops and we both had very strong opinions on which one was more practical for us to get off at. I was convinced that since the farther stop was a little closer to home, we should stay on the bus, get off on the first stop past the house, and then walk back. Callie, on the other hand, was equally determined that it made more sense to get off at the last stop before our house and then walk because even though it was slightly farther to the house, you wouldn’t have to backtrack so you’d be making up time and end up getting to the house the quickest this way! Now, on this day in particular, we were both feeling quite stubborn on our choices, and as the older sibling Callie had pulled rank and let me know in no uncertain terms that we were getting off at the stop before our house because that’s what made the most sense! I disagreed, but silently stood next to my sister as the bus turned onto the top of our street. Here is where my cheeky younger sister side really came out – as I silently plotted how I was going to stand up to my big sister while outwardly I stood next to her at the front of the bus, hand in hand, waiting for the bus to stop. However, as the doors swung open at Callie’s stop and she stepped out onto the pavement, my mischievous six-year-old self slipped my hand out of her grasp and pulled my dangling foot back into the bus, and then grinned a wicked grin of success as I waved through the closing doors at my panicked sister’s face. In that moment I was SO proud, I’d finally gotten my way and was going to go the better stop, the far stop, all on my own – I’d show Callie! In hindsight, I feel sorry for my poor big sister who, in an overwhelming fear that she might lose me, had screamed and banged on the side of the bus as it pulled away until the driver realised, she’d left me inside and put on his brakes to let me out. So, in the end, I didn’t make it to the far stop, but I’ll never forget the triumph of the moment when I cheekily grinned and waved at my sister through the closing doors – a true instance of youngest sister syndrome!