Losing my Bed

By Molly

Bridget is three I years older than I am. She always has been ever since I was born. I asked her daughter Hazel yesterday when I should have kids and she told me not until I am her mom's age. I am the same age Bridget was when she had Hazel but I won't tell Hazel that because I hope she will keep telling me not until I am as old as her mom. I will never be that. I understand age difference now but when I was younger I never understood why Bridget was always older than me and why she learned to do things before me.

Bridget learned to read about three years before I did. Once she learned to read she never stopped. She was so proud of being able to read. She bragged to me all the time that she could read and I couldn't. I was so frustrated by this. One day we were in the sheep barn and she had a book and she kept reading from it and then would ask me to read and when I failed she laughed and teased me that I would never be able to read.

Bridget reading
The day Bridget learned how to write her name she came home from school and showed me again that she could do something I could not. We shared a room at time. Bridget told me we were going to play a game. The rules of the game were simple. We each got a crayon. After Bridget said go we had to run around the room writing our name on everything that was ours. Bridget handed me a crayon and said go. She proceeded to write her name on her bed, her dressers, her toys. After she had marked everything of hers she moved onto my things. While I sat and cried with my crayon in my hand struggling to learn to write my name she claimed my dresser, my toys, and my side of the closet. She eventually overtook my bed. I wailed at the thought that now I no longer owned anything because clearly you could read Bridget but my scribbles had no meaning.

Bridget going to school.