My sister and I shared a bedroom from day one. A lot of people wince in response to that bit of information—but not us. We certainly had our issues during daylight hours, wearing out phrases like, “I’m telling!” and “That’s MY Tiger Beat!” and “Stop breathing on me!”, but once it was bedtime, it was like being at camp with no supervision.
We’d talk about everything from what we’d name triplets to how tight we should wear our Gloria Vanderbilts (spoiler alert: unspeakably tight). For a short while, we had separate twin beds situated on opposite sides of the room, and we’d play a game where one of us would reveal a secret on a cassette recorder and crawl over in the dark to deliver it. The other would press play, hear the deep-dark, then record both a response and a secret of her own, before making the return delivery.
When it was my turn, I’d pull the covers over my head and get my mouth as close to the speaker as I could—using my most discreet inside voice. I’d feel my way over to her bed and make the transfer. By the time I’d rush back to dive under my covers, she’d be blessed with this gem, “I think I’m in love with Paul McCartney.”
I’d wait anxiously, not being able to stand the suspense of hearing her response to my secret and what juicy tidbit she’d divulge back to me. Had she kissed Blaine? Was she the culprit who slugged back Daddy’s last Coke? Had she really passed her algebra test?
In this particular instance, I was quite perturbed that she “already knew about” my infatuation with one quarter of the Fab Four. How she could have allowed me to traverse the murky waters of celebrity obsession alone all those months is something I’ll never understand. Not to mention the difficulties Paul and I would face in dealing with the stigma of our disparate ages.
Another time when we were relegated to twin beds—and this is why I believe them NOT to be all they’re cracked up to be—we were talking with animated British accents, pretending to be royalty. “The princess is pooting! The precious princess is pooting! The precious princess is pooting in the palace! The precious princess is pooting in the prince’s palace!”
Our squirreliness escalated to the point of trouble and my mom took away my beloved tape recorder. Not a big deal, you say? Wrong. I’d recorded myself spelling over a hundred practice words to get ready for the big spelling bee the next day. I’d read something about “sleep learning” and my plan had been to fall asleep to my voice reciting words like c-o-n-j-e-c-t-u-r-e. I’m convinced this thwarted plan is what yielded me 18th place. There were 25 participants.
As a whole, I believe things were better for us when we shared a bed. Particularly our king-sized waterbed. We got in less trouble because we could whisper and talk for longer periods of time without getting out of control. We did, of course, still get overly giggly and loud until we’d hear, “GIRLS!!” That dreaded word was surpassed only by its accompanying dreaded tone—an unnerving bark that jolted us back to whispers and compelled us to proceed with greater caution.
As we got a little older, we settled into a nightly routine of talking, mostly quietly, until we fell asleep. It was pretty balanced, as far as who talked the most and who fell asleep quickest. What was not as noticeably even was how we felt about drifting away from the conversation and into dreamland.
It pained me to no end to feel the loopies coming on and know I was fading at an alarming rate, just as she was getting into the meat of her story. I would fight with all my might to hang on until the end—until I could hear the final talking point—all the while making audible, active listening sounds and affirmations. However, more than a few times, when I was well into a life-changing story (whatever that means for an eleven year old) I would wrap up and realize she was sound asleep. I’d scan my brain to figure out what the last thing she heard was, so I could finish it up the next night. All in all, we did really well and loved talking every night.
Then, we found our voice.
However, what started off as an agreed-upon duet session, with shared vocal responsibilities, segued into me consistently being assigned lead male vocal. And soon after, for reasons I don’t recall, I was handling the parts of both singers. That made harmony really tough. You and I by Eddie Rabbit and Crystal Gayle is a beautiful love song. It’s a lot less moving when a 12-year old girl is Eddie. Endless Love might be one of the greatest love songs of the century, but when, as a preteen, you are charged with managing both parts, I can tell you that the integrity of the song suffers.
Ask me to be Lionel Richie and the vocals are passable. Ask me to handle Diana Ross and you’ll get my best, albeit lacking, effort—as I had yet to perfect my vibrato. But expect me to be Lionel and Diana and your ear canals will not be amused. When I’d get to the power portion of the song, “Noooo one can deny, this looooove I have inside, and I’ll giiiiiiiive it all to you” and it was but one lone voice, willing itself to be two, it was a disaster in the making. Those were the times I was happy she fell asleep before the bridge.
I can’t complain. I quite enjoyed singing her to sleep. It’s one of my best memories growing up with my sister and sharing a room. The secretly borrowed clothes that were ruined pale in comparison to the trouble we got in, the talks we had, the games we played and the harmonies we shared.
Could bouncing on the waterbed have helped out with the vibrato bit? I have no doubt the midnight karaoke tunes were loooovely:) And you really do find out some interesting tidbits about siblings after lights out. When I shared with my older sis, I learned that she has ESP and can instantly create a song for any occasion and she would like that to be her profession. GTK.
The waterbed could have indeed aided with the vibrato but I was too courteous of a bed mate to try it. Snort. I need to see Laura do this ASAP.
uh oh, busted. now everyone knows about “songs for any occasion”.
for some reason, what this post instantly reminded me of was our miss piggy sheets pageants.
Yeah, Laura – busted. And in trouble — you think Don’s Depot doesn’t fall into the category of “any occasion”??! #missedopportunity
oh my goodness, best one yet. The princess is pooting!
It’s me (Jenn Shertzer). I’m too lazy to do the login thingy below 🙂
Hey Anonymous Jenn Shertzer! Glad you’re here and liked it! Your gray pic here GORGEOUS.
That was really sweet. Dare I remind you that just a few years ago you girls came home for an extended family funeral, and about 1:30am, Dad had to thump on the wall and tell you girls to, “Get to sleep!”
He was mad, huh? He thumped with real intent. I guess our adult voices and laughs were heartier than we estimated 🙂 ily
thanks Anna…guess what song is stuck in my head now? “…my looove (my love, my love) my (breathless) endlesssss loooooove”. Thanks so much for sharing such a special memory. I can only envision the waves you and Jeni caused from shake laughing in the ole king sized waterbed!
And now I’M singing it. Hard. And so soulful I could cry. Thank you, Tammy! 🙂
this is so my 2 girls now! love it!
Now go buy a dog, Anna! you need a baby!
Whoa whoa whoa, Foxy. 2 VERY different things. I’d take any and all babies left on my doorstep!
I love it and I love you!! Please don’t forget your noteworthy performances of Islands in the Stream!! 🙂
Oh my gosh. How did I forget? I could do Kenny Rogers so good! Do you remember how much I sounded like him? With The Gambler, too. Dolly was harder – I didn’t have the boobs for it.
STOP making me laugh at work!!!
How many New Kids on the Block posters were hanging in that bedroom???? Or more importantly, how many conversations were had about the hotties who were in the group??? Lol. Good job as always. My sister and I shared a bed as well and we used to take 5-minute turns of tickling each other’s backs….but damned if I’d always have to go first so she could go to sleep while getting hers tickled—guess that’s what I got for being the youngest.
Pilaf, it was more like how many Ricky Schroder posters. And to answer that question … 112. Aww, you and your sis!
That brings back good memories for me too! Your singing was wonderful. However, you did fail to mention that, at one point, I had to tape a line down the middle of the room (that neither of you were allowed to cross) so you didn’t kill each other. Ah, memories! Just sayin’.
Ah yes, the tape and the killing each other … that is another blog, kind sir 🙂
I love this! It sounds so much like my experiences with my own sister. We used to get yelled at at bedtime too…constantly! Love your blogs…so glad I stopped over…finally. Was planning to last week…then got involved in fifty million things. But I’m hear now and loving it!
I’m so glad you stopped by, too. Fifty million things sure is a lot – you should consider simplifying your life 😉
This is so cute! I always wished for a sister even though my best friend’s older sister would make her be the bridge between their two twin beds so older sis could walk back and forth on top… just because. And how wonderful to have had a cassette tape confidante instead of a cassette tape sneaky little brother :).
Nice work on your blog, Anna, I’m enjoying the read.
Wow, thank you, Karen! I’m so glad you’re here and enjoying it … makes me happy! How I miss that tape recorder …
Glad I’ve finally found something I agree with!
This reminds me of me and my sister 🙂 we didn’t do this game with the recorder, but we also shared a room and a bed and had to be reminded by our parents 😀
I’ve since found out that sooo many girls had memories like these from sharing a room. I wouldn’t change a THING. Thanks for coming by 🙂
No me neither 🙂 it was the happiest time of my life. no problem, thanks for liking and commenting my posts as well 🙂
You really saved my skin with this innormatiof. Thanks!
Takes me back. Myself and two sisters sharing. the youngest one writing under the covers all of our secrets ‘cos we wouldn’t let her join in. She was so much younger but was pretty good at pretending to be asleep.x
And you just KNOW she was pretending! Thanks so much for reading/commenting 🙂
It’s strange. As young as she seemed then, age has a way of closing the gap.x
It’s strange. As young as she seemed then, age has a way of closing the gap.x
It’s strange. As young as she seemed then, age has a way of closing the gap.x
Anna, about 2 or 3 weeks before Jill passed, she sent me a text telling me I “have to read this particular blog post because it reminded her of us!” At the time, I was busy and did not get around to it. I finally read it today….with tears of sadness over the loss of my best friend, your words are extra comforting. Thank you for helping me remember my late night talks and laughter with my sister. How lucky are we, that we have a best friend called a sister!
Oh Amy, what a nice thing to tell me—thank you so, so much. I’m touched that Jill read it and liked it and recommended it to you … and I’m grateful it brought you some happiness. THANK YOU for telling me 🙂
Nice Anna, but you left out “she’s looking at me”….a few of us in our gaggle of 9 kids would get called out for that one occasionally. 🙂 And I always wanted to be John Lennon….still miss him. Liked the story
“Moma! She’s looking at me!!” Right? Thanks for reading/commenting and coming by! 🙂
Aw, this is why I always wished I had a sister.
It’s definitely something special 🙂 Thank you for clicking over!!
This almost left me speechless. You gals were like an honest-to-goodness feel-good coming-of-age movie (is that enough hyphenated words for you?) I smiled all the way through this. Like, REAL smiling…not just smiling in my head. And I kind of want to be adopted by your family so I can be your sister now. I’m glad I saved this for last as I made my way through the RTT posts. It left me with a warm, fuzzy feeling 🙂
Kelly!! Thank you-thank you! I love contributing to the Remember The Time blog hop and I’m so happy you enjoyed this story 🙂 Aww, for real smiles that happen on the face and not in the head are the best! 😉