There’s a thing called the “Older sibling trauma” trend on TikTok.

I saw one yesterday of a girl telling how she and her sister would play “Spice Girls” except her sister got to be all the Spice Girls and made her be the fans trying to jump on stage. Her sister would kick her to keep her off.

As you know by now, I have an older sister, Teara.

When we were kids, we liked to play Charlie’s Angels. Teara, the bossy B that she is, got first pick, so of course she was always Jill aka Farrah Fawcett.

We would also play the greatest children’s TV show of all time, Magic Garden. Magic Garden’s two main characters were Carol & Paula. Carol played the guitar. Guess who Teara always picked.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that Teara always got to play the guitar, we thought Carol was prettier than Paula, so she would proclaim, “I’m Paula and play the guitar but I look like Carol”. So I had to pretend she was Paula but looked like Carol. Makes sense.

We also played Grease 2. By now you know the drill: Tara = Stephanie Zannone played by the gorgeous, Michelle Pfieffer.

This one hurt. I wanted so bad to be Stephanie Zannone. I’d walk around my house and break out in the Cool Rider song & dance routine at any given moment. I’d dream about Michael Carrington being my boyfriend. I’d pretend I was at the Bowl-a-Rama rockin out to We’re Gonna Score Tonight (with no clue of the double entendres.) But nooo…. Teara always got first pick and I was stuck being Paulette.

But fear not, dear reader. I was no wilting flower. Maybe if she would have let me once – just once – be Stephanie, or Jill, or play the guitar, I wouldn’t have had to exact my revenge in other ways as I got older.

When telling how bad I was as a kid, my parents always include this story.

One day, I walked to the railing in our upstairs hallway holding an encyclopedia. I called down, “ Tearaaaaa… come here…” She came to the bottom of the stairs and said, “What?” As soon as I saw the top of her permed noggin, I dropped the encyclopedia right on her head. I was doubled over laughing, but I didn’t know why she was so upset. I mean, her giant Adam Sandler hair absorbed most of the force… what a crybaby! I got in a lot of trouble for that one.

Then there was the time she had mono. Our pediatrician, Dr. Reyes, was originally from the Philippines and had a really strong accent, so imagine that, if you will, when I tell you how he diagnosed her:

Dr Reyes: Your test results came back and you have mononucleosis.

Lol: What is that? How did she get it?

Dr. Reyes: Oh… you get it from kissing. (Cracking up and literally slapping his knee) Have you been kissing Tony?!

He went on to explain the real reason, but the kissing Tony line is a family favorite to this day.

Anyway, Teara milked THE SHIT out of her mono. Tarrraaa had to rest, so Tarrraaa couldn’t do the dishes anymore. So guess who had to do the dishes every night… ME!

One night my parents went out and I was stuck cleaning up dinner by myself, againnn, as Tara lay on the couch. I was like, “Oh fuck this shit. I know she’s faking now and I’m gonna prove it.”

So I took a dirty gravy ladle and held it above her forehead and said, “Oh no… you’re so sick that you can’t move even if I were to drip this gravy on you.”

“You better not.”

“Why? What are you gonna do?”

Drip.

She hops up and we start fighting.

Dr. Reyes explained that while having mono, the spleen gets enlarged and you must be very careful because it could burst.

This was my chance to prove she was faking.

I punched her in the spleen. Either I was right and she was faking because nothing happened, or I have no idea where the spleen is and actually punched her in her belly button. I’m sure it was the latter.

Perhaps they should change it to the “Younger sibling trauma” trend. There are probably many others out there like Teara with some stories to tell.