Growing up with an older brother, both of us knew how to pick our battles. While I was the baby and that gave me the upper hand with Mom for most of our sibling altercations, Mom also knew Scott most often times was in the right and I was being the younger, pain in the butt sister.
My favorite brother played this to his advantage, of course. I can still hear, “MOM! Shelley is touching me!” That phrase always resulted in adult intervention and typically meant I was told to stop whatever I was (or wasn’t) doing.
Then, Scott would laugh and point at me behind Mom’s back, gloating in the satisfaction that he had prevailed in the current battle.
We sort of looked like this…
