How dare she.

I sat looking at her out of the corner of my eye. I do not recollect exactly when my sister was born, but this alien had invaded our home in a blink of an eye. She was small, hairy with oddly shaped hands (too big for the rest of her body) and she howled day and night. She had entered the world that once revolved around me. My dominion. My sphere. My haven. The place where my parents only worshipped me.

How dare she.

I immediately made up my mind. I did not like her.

I vaguely remember the night when my mother and father were at the hospital. My babysitter was a buxom teenager who lived down the street. She had red hair, red lips and freckles all over her body. These spots intrigued me. With my jet black hair and dark skin, freckles were a novelty to me. We got along because she was a free spirit too. She allowed me to 'connect the dots' with her freckles using a pen and laughed when I asked why her boobs were so big. She told me that my mom was having a baby and I remember asking her where babies came from.

"The hospital, of course! But a man and a woman have to kiss first."

That was my first introduction to the concept of sex and I pondered her explanation while I ate dinner, as I changed into my pajamas and while I sat with her as we both watched TV. I felt special that night because it was past my bedtime and she allowed me to hang out with her. So my father kissed my mother and now they were picking up the baby from the hospital? What the heck? The pen marks on her legs looked like varicose veins.

"So if my dad kisses my mom again, they will have to go back and pick up another baby?" I asked incredulously.

My babysitter shook her head and took the pen out my hand. "You will find out when you grow up. It will spoil the surprise if I tell you everything now!" She lifted me up off the carpet and put me on the couch. I began to rock furiously back and forth

The more emotional and utterly confused I became, the more I rocked. My parents had kissed me on the cheek and I knew no baby had resulted from this action. It took me awhile to figure it out.

Ephiphany: Man and woman must kiss on the lips to create a baby.

But how did this relate to receiving the baby at the hospital?
How did doctors at the hospital know my parents kissed?
Or was it my parents duty to call the hospital to inform them and then they were awarded the baby?

Millions of questions were flung at my babysitter as I rocked violently on the sofa. So much so that she grew impatient and picked me up to put me to bed.

"You told me you kissed your boyfriend last week. Where is your baby?!" My babysitter rolled her eyes and closed the door. Darkness enveloped me.

And that was the last thing I remembered as I sat looking at this wrinkly, ugly, creature sitting in a bouncy chair. She was only two months old. I don't recall her age but because this story has been recounted over and over again within the family, the age factor has a huge impact on the story's end.

My mother had her back to me as she cooked in the kitchen. She was talking to me as I sat at the table but I was plagued by the fact that she offered me no eye contact. It made me feel less important. My sister sat in the bouncy chair close to my mother but slightly behind her. Her proximity also caused me great distress.

How dare she...be closer to MY mother.

I sat on the edge of my seat, unable to focus on my colouring book. It was a second choice pick of Robin Hood and his merry men. I wanted the Disney book with all the princesses. I was downgraded because my mother had to find my sister new bibs and no time was allocated to dig through the colouring book pile to find my princesses.

How dare she.

I pushed my colouring book aside and slithered from the table towards the bouncer. I watched my mother stirring the pot out of the corner of my eye and tipped toed towards the alien. She was fast asleep for once. Her cries kept me awake night after night and I knew deep down inside that she was a banshee let loose from hell to torment me.

I slowly moved the bouncer away from my mother towards the kitchen table. I answered her questions from the table so she would not suspect anything.

We lived in split bungalow with our kitchen, living and dining room on the second floor. There was a deep staircase leading down to our family room and the one bedroom where I had been stashed away upon the birth of the alien.

I moved the bouncer to the top of the stairs and stopped. I turned slowly to my mother who continued to cook, unaware of my strategic plan to eliminate the alien presence once and for all.

I had it all planned out. Robin Hood even seemed to be cheering me on from the cover of that stupid colouring book that fell precariously over the table. I opened my mouth, synchronizing my verbal alert with my foot at the helm of the bouncer. Humpty Dumpty was about to be catapulted from the wall.

"Mummy, ....and we all fall down..." My mother turned just as I launched my foot against the bouncer. I will never forget the horror in her eyes as the alien/banshee/ugly creature/Humpty Dumpty went over the top step.

My dear mother, the one who never raised her voice nor screamed, fought to find her voice as she ran down the stairs after my sister. My father heard the ruckus from the third floor bedroom and came running down as I returned to my dreaded colouring book and put a moustache on Robin Hood. Now he looked handsome...just like my father.

Needless to say, the banshee survived. And I had to put up with her and the lack of attention. Rebellion never looked so good....