I hate wasps. I mean I REALLY HATE WASPS!!! They are the absolute worst, and without reason at all! Today, I was sitting in my car, minding my own bee’s wax – was that almost a pun? – when one came out of nowhere and planted its painful venom into my neck! Can you believe that? How incredibly rude! My first instinct was to retreat to the safety of my own home. Upon entrance, however, I realized that I had locked the black and yellow culprit in my car. Pretty soon, paranoia began to settle in. Once, I read somewhere that killer bees surrounded a lady’s car because the queen bee was trapped inside. What if the wasp that stung me was the queen, and her community of wasp friends surrounded my car, ready to attack me if I tried to get back inside?! Do wasps even do that sort of thing? Being stung once is painful enough, I wouldn’t want it to happen again!! This thought triggered another thought, which sparked another thought, which eventually turned into a crazy train of thought. SO MANY THOUGHTS! Eventually, the crazy train took some unexpected turns and somehow arrived at this destination: Being a younger sister is a lot like getting stung by a wasp… it’s a real pain in the neck!

For starters, you have to fight… for everything! My brother is two and half years older than I am. He’s also much taller and much stronger than me. He has made these three advantages he has over me awfully clear from the very beginning. But has it stopped me from fighting him for the remote, racing him to the shotgun seat, or challenging him to a wrestling match when he takes something of mine? Of course not! Being competitive is not an option when you’re the younger sister. You can’t just let your older brother walk all over you. Even if you never really wanted whatever it is you’re fighting over in the first place, he still has to EARN it! Nine times out of ten, you’re going to lose the battle. But all that matters is that you fought in the war and at the very least, earned some respect. Either way, it’s exhausting!

The next thing that being a younger sister entails is that everyone is your boss. Yes, even your older brother. I rank just above the dogs on the household totem pole. If my mom wants the dishes done, I do what she says. If my dad wants his feet rubbed, I do what he says. If my brother wants me to get something out of his car for him, I grit my teeth, clench my hands, storm over to his vehicle, and do what he says. There’s no questioning, there’s no complaining, and there is most definitely no back-talking. And don’t even THINK about trying to switch the roles and be one of their bosses. That would be madness!

Being a younger sister also means that you have no privacy. There are eyes and ears on you at all times! My father is the head honcho of the network. All important information gets streamed to him, where he makes executive decisions. Such decisions include grounding me for a month, sharing classified information with the ENTIRE family, or embarrassing me at the dinner table. Below him ranks my brother. His job is to filter information and report to my father. It is also his job to intimidate love struck boys and recruit more body guards. The “body guards” are friends of my brothers who also treat me as though I’m their younger sister, and voluntarily preform big brother duties. Their main job is to report all information to my brother and watch out for my best interests. They truly are the eyes and ears of the whole operation. There are also – what I like to call – ghosts. “Ghosts” refer to the secret agents that keep tabs on me and report information to whomever they work for. Ghosts can be relatives, my parent’s coworkers, or even the family mechanic. No matter how hard you try to fight for it, privacy just does not exist.

Being the responsible sibling is another tiring part of being the younger sister. You see, the whole understanding of it all is that you’re supposed learn from your older sibling’s mistakes and not make any of your own. You know better than to make the same stupid choices that they did because you’ve already seen the consequences that follow. For example, it is my job to know that roasting marshmallows in the fire place is never okay, and I should not try it for myself. It is also important that I refrain from recording myself doing dangerous activities because my parents WILL eventually find the footage and I WILL get in trouble. I should also never run my baby sister over with a stroller EVEN THOUGH she’s hogging all of mom’s attention. Like I said, it’s my duty, as the younger sibling, to not make the same mistakes my older brother made.

However, unlike getting stung by a wasp, being the younger sister isn’t all bad. In fact, being a younger sister is a blessing because you learn a lot without even realizing it. Having to fight for everything teaches you to be strong and to stand up for yourself. Even though you may be 5’4 and less than 110 pounds, that doesn’t mean you have to be weak. Letting people walk all over you is never okay, and that’s what your brother is there for. He helps you learn self-respect and teaches you to never back down from a challenge. Being “bossed around” teaches you to have respect for you elders – including your brother. Having no privacy teaches you that trust should be giving to those worthy of it. Too many people are out for blood and it’s important to keep in mind that you should always protect yourself. The whole security network thing has its perks too. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t comforting to fall asleep each night knowing that someone – whether it’s my dad, the body guards, the ghosts, or whoever – is watching my back and keeping me safe. And, although being the responsible child all the time may not seem fair, it definitely pays off in the end. You'll be a better person because of it. Oh, but don’t get me wrong, you’ll still make a million mistakes. After all, nobody’s perfect.

So although being the younger sister may be a huge pain in the neck, but it just might be the best that's happened to me.