Twinnies forever!

Day 18, May 18th, Saturday: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.

with my sister and btw, that's my favorite dress as a child

aren’t we cute???

Hi, reader! I hope you don’t mind if this is the second time I’m using this photo of my sister and I. Yesterday I posted something about my childhood and like what someone said, I might have a pool of memories several years ago to choose from, and she’s pretty right about that. My life is filled with memories — both good and bad, and this girl I’m with in this photo plays a significant part in all those things.

Meet my pretty and crazy sister. She’s Joan. I have five siblings, and she’s the person I’m closest with. Because of our two year age difference, my mom treats us like we’re both in the same age. She’s enthusiastic about buying us clothes with the same style, just different colors.  People often thought we’re twins, though I don’t see the point. I’m taller and well, you can just see it for yourself. We were partners in crime and after all these years, we still are.

I’ve got a million stories to tell, and not all of them are really worth remembering. I guess I must stick with this list. This is difficult, sort of. I just want to reminisce our everyday schedule of playing. I just realized how good actresses we were at an early age!! This is funny, but I can still clearly remember what we usually play those days.

There was a time when we spent a whole day playing non-stop. This list consists of the things we did.

  • We even had a story line! So the story went like this. We act like we were friends stranded in a forest (like the ones you see in film). It was indeed a perfect timing since it’s raining cats and dogs! All our stuffed toys were gathered and we treat them as our kids. We even named ourselves differently. Our made-up car was the wood that’s firmly situated near the stairs. We weren’t thinking how dangerous that was. Of course we were playing when no one was looking, or our mom would scold us. We spoke like we had a script, and we always made sure the story wouldn’t end without a perfect ending. Those parts, I can no longer remember.
  • We were avid fans of Naruto when it was first aired in the Philippine TV. There was a scene where Ino and Sakura were in a battle and we both liked Sakura, and it took us long to decide whether it’s she or I who will play her role. Being the older one, I let her be Sakura. If you’re familiar with that anime, you’re pretty much aware how the characters are training to be ninjas. Just imagine how exhausted we were after every battle! My mom was always yelling whenever we were jumping upstairs, and she’s terrified that the light bulb might explode anytime. (the ceiling of our house there was wood)
  • Another anime we’re huge fans of is the Keleido Star. That’s about a girl whose dream was to be a famous acrobat, particularly a trapeze flyer! I tried to mimic what she’s doing. Being the ever resourceful that I am, I used our stairs as the trapeze. There was a part there where I can put my fingers, and voila! Instant trapeze. I swayed to and fro, to and fro, then… I fell butt first. Ouch, isn’t it? We even performed Swan Lake. Awkward.
  • There was also a time when we played mermaids. We used all the blankets we owned as our tails and my mom arrived home glaring at us like we’ve killed someone. Her dear blankets were caked with dirt.
  • I wouldn’t forget our mini cash register, paper dolls, brick games, little kitchen sets, fish catcher, etc.

These are just some. Today’s challenge says story, but sorry I couldn’t help it. DFTBA!

She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she’s the reason you wish you were an only child. — Barbara Alpert

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