Fitness Center Assignment - 1

Sunrise Fitness Forum assignment



2. Summertime at dusk we'd gather on the back porch, tired and sticky from another day of fierce encoded quarrels, nursing our mosquito bites and frail dignities, sisters in name only.



This had it all, you can see the light fading, hear the crickets and see the bats swooping for their dinners.  Perhaps even the faint lingering scents from dinner.  Rival siblings (and I’m thinking more than just two) congregate together—sweaty, grimy and exhausted. 

You know what this reminded me of…the song from ‘White Christmas’—‘Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister.  And Lord help the sister, that comes between me and my man....'





         ‘Summertime at dusk we'd gather on the back porch, tired and sticky from another day of fierce encoded quarrels, nursing our mosquito bites and frail dignities, sisters in name only.’  Eventually, one of us, usually Emma, the youngest, would go inside for a bath, and the squabbling would dwindle off.  Then Dottie would go in, letting the screen door slam behind her.  Then it would be my turn.

         The good part of that was that there was still hot water—usually.  The downside of it would be that I’d have to spend ten minutes mopping up the floor, picking up discarded clothes and hanging up wet towels.  Barbara and Amy insisted they were old enough to bathe themselves.  They apparently weren’t old enough to pick up after themselves. 

         But by the time I’d get upstairs, after a day of running through the woods and bickering with each other they would be unconscious.  How could I get angry with them—rumpled cotton pajamas twisted on their little frames, they would be splayed out crosswise on the top of their bedcovers.  So, I’d pick up after them—and then again when I’d finished—because my older sisters were whole other story.  Although, they didn’t seem quite as fastidious if they got in the bathroom before me. 

         It’s hard enough to have to share a bedroom with two younger sisters, but it was worst to share a bathroom with all four sisters.  Someone always seems to be in when you want to be.

         Then there was the constant poaching of personal items.  Theoretically, we each had our own shelf in the linen closet, and drawer in the vanity.  Theoretically.  I had given up.  As the middle sister, I lost both ways.  My older sisters were always raiding any nice lotion or perfume I found.  My little sisters, who I’m sure I’ll miss when I go away to college (or kill them), were always playing with my makeup and went through copious amounts of bubble bath. 

         And no one ever had any idea of what you were complaining about.  I was fourteen before I knew for sure that I was actually speaking English for all the confused looks I’d get if I inquired about missing items.  Questions about vanishing bottles of perfume and bubble bath bottles that had been nearly full the day before and were now down to the last half-inch (and seemed surprisingly thin) were answered with quizzical looks and raised eyebrows. 

         There I was, just fifteen and, betwixt and between.  I was too old to run around and play with the younger girls, but not old enough to be acknowledge by the older ones.