Big Sister

Big Sister: Is she cool? Poetry


How lovely to be a big sister, right?
To have that adorable, cute little thumb sucking munchkin following you around the house.
Her obedient little eyes, searches everything that I do and the rude mouth which calms down after a good scolding.
How sweet to hear her reciting her ABCs and the 1-10 numbers.
Time flies and the rude mouth become permanently etch on her teenage mouth.
There was no ‘terrible two stage’ but the terrible twelve just slam dunked in my court.
I try to understand because I was a teenager and I experience all those bizarre changes but this is taking it a bit too far. No?
The sucking of teeth for the most ridiculous reason, I always tell her “brush it, don’t suck it,” but no she drops these irritating bombs everywhere and anywhere.
Then comes the ‘boys’ phrase’, I have no problem with her getting crazy for them but she refuses to put some Maths and English in her hard-headed brain.
What is the point of school, if one makes the little effort to learn? Am I Right?
Clothes, shoes and hair take the prime spot and everything else means little or nothing at all.
So much for the loveliness of a big sister when the little sister seems feather brain and all TV’d up.


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