I’m A Superhero

Not really though.


So, my youngest sister has almost drowned–three times!!!!!

And I’m the one who has saved her, every time. 


Now I don’t want you to get confused and think it was this great, heroic gesture; it really wasn’t. Let me tell you how this shit went down:


1. The first time my sister almost drowned, we were at our friend’s house swimming to beat the Southern heat. My youngest sister hadn’t quite mastered the art of swimming yet. We’re playing pool games, I’m in the deep end and my sister was in the shallow end. She’s just having a blast, I turn around and when I turn back she’s not there anymore–I look down in the water and see her thrashing underneath. I grab her by the arm, pull her up and take her back to the shallow end and set her on the stairs. She’d slipped on the incline into the deep end and just sank to the bottom. She was okay, just a little spooked.

2. The second time was almost identical to the first time–except my mom was there. I’m playing in the deep end and my sister once again slipped on the incline to the deep end. She wasn’t underneath the water for long before I saw her, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to the surface. My mom was very, very worried but everything was okay and my sister was fine.

3. The third time was a little more eventful, and kind of funny because of who we were with. The first time I met my husband, I was 10 and he was 12; our families became friends and I grew up hanging out around him and his brother and sisters.

My mom and his mom planned a swimming day at their house; we spend almost the entire day there and swim until we’re exhausted. Because I was around 12ish, boys still had cooties and I was starting to get self-conscious about my body–stupid puberty! Normally, I’d swim until mom would drag us home…not this time, I didn’t want to be in my swimsuit around boys.

So at lunch time, when we were forced out of the pool to nourish ourselves, I decided to put my clothes back on and call it a day. So here I am, back in my clothes, eating lunch by the pool–all the kids were almost done eating. My youngest sister was all the way done eating and decided it was time to get back in the pool; so she just toddles over to the water while everyone keeps talking. She didn’t have her water wings on and was supposed to put them on before jumping in the pool; we hear a splash……..and she doesn’t surface.

The water wings are still on the side of the pool.

My mom can’t swim, so frantically she cries for me to save her and pushes me in the pool to get my sister out; I swim down to the bottom of the pool and bring her up to the surface. I hold my sister up to my mom who pulls her out of the pool to make sure she’s okay and I climb out, my clothes now soaking wet.

My sister is assessed as being fine, she’s short of breath and coughing but otherwise perfectly fine. She hadn’t been under for more than a minute. Then the attention is turned to me and my only change of clothes being unsuitable for me to drive home in.

Now at this point in time, I was too small to wear his mom’s clothes but too big to wear his younger sister’s clothes. Sooooooooooo…a pair of my now husband’s clothes was given to me to wear. Like I said before, I was in the awkward boy’s-are-gross-and-weird-and-scary stage, and I’ve got to wear this boy’s clothes!! And not just shorts and a t-shirt, NO, I had to wear a pair of his underwear!!!! It was so humiliating! Seriously, imagine yourself at 12 years old and you’ve been handed clothes from the opposite sex and you’re just supposed to wear it like everything is fine. I have never changed clothes faster then when I got home that day, I’ll tell you that much. Kind of funny now actually but at the time, I was absolutely mortified!

(On a side note, I wear his t-shirts all the time now which is cool. Getting married doubled my comfy clothes wardrobe and it’s the best decision I’ve ever made!)


My youngest sister is the coolest youngest sister in the world and she just turned 19 (like three days ago) and I love her so much.

I promise to write something about her that’s not so embarrassing another day.

But come on…what are oldest sister’s for anyway if not to embarrass their siblings?

Love you sister!


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