Mid-range
- kd
- Jun 24, 2018
- 3 min read
My sister is the oldest child. My brother is the youngest. There are only three of us - so that makes me the middle.
Yes, I have lived in shadows. Yes, I have suffered through hand-me-downs. Yes, I have answered the question, "So, you're her/his sister?" about six thousand times.
I'm surprisingly ok with that.
That's because we mid-rangers are the well-adjusted children. We are peace makers. We are soothers.
And we get to sit back and watch the show!
There was one time the three of us were all watching tv. The Andy Griffith show was just ending. It had that cute whistley tune going while the credits rolled. So - ever the music lover - my sister joined in. She started whistling along. She hadn't gotten a dozen notes out before my brother interjected, "Stop it!"
Well, that was it. My sister whistled louder. What else could she do?
I just sat there watching.
She whistled along. He told her to stop it again. She whistled more. He told her to stop it again. She whistled through a growing smile. (How she did that - I'll never know!) He yelled.
And I just sat there watching.
No one won that battle. At the end of the credits, she was satisfied and he was hoarse but happy she'd stopped.
And I just sat there watching.
I think back to the whistle-stop battle every now and again. It makes me smile.
What did we learn from that? Well, not much. We already knew some of the triggers that got us all rolling. For instance, my brother loved having everything his way. (Remember - he's the youngest. The youngest OFTEN get their way.) My sister had some serious control issues whenever music was involved. (More to come on that issue later.) And I hated anyone borrowing my shoes. (So my brother was safe on this item.) But we didn't learn anything meaningful from the whistle-stop exchange.
Except the two of them learned how to amp it up.
We were watching M*A*S*H. Even typing the name brings the theme song drifting into my head! It's beautiful, isn't it?
Well, not to my pre-teen brother.
The theme song had started up. My sister was lying on the couch. She started singing along with it. "Dah dah dah dah dah - da - da - daaaah....."
"Stop it!" he groaned.
Surprisingly - she did.
What? I wondered what was happening. Surely she couldn't let him win that easily! That just wasn't her style!
Then she raised her right hand, forefinger outstretched, and started following the notes with her finger mid-air. It was like those old sing alongs where a ball would show you the high notes and the low notes - only her fingertip was the ball.
"Stop it!" he yelled.
You know where this is going, right? It pretty much ends the same way. Theme songs only last a set time. It was over quickly and no blood was drawn. My sister was still on the couch. My brother was still on the floor.
And I just sat there from the big red recliner - watching.
It is the role of those in the mid-range to watch. We intervene if need be. (Oh - don't think us fully innocent. Sometimes we interject some fireworks into the show.) But in our family, there wasn't ever really that much need. We loved each other and worked things out. So I got a lot of practice watching how people interact.
I learned a bit, too. I learned that the littlest things can irritate, that tempers can escalate quickly when buttons are pushed, and that given time (even a thirty second musical send-off) most people will get over it.
Just you sit and watch.
These are so much fun! Keep them coming, Kris!