I have two older brothers. They are only 15 months apart from one another and have been best friends all of our lives. Being the baby and the only girl often left me feeling a bit on the outside, so I worked very hard to be just like them. If they cursed and spit, I cursed and spit. If they yelled at the TV during an NFL game, I yelled. If they dared me to do something crazy, I typically went for it. Jump off 5 concrete steps in roller skates? Sure! Oops fractured arm. Fold me up in a coach bed, replace all of the cushions and sit on it? Sure! Currently, I’m not really fond of tight spaces.
Let them take turns launching me off the bottom of their feet to see who could send me further? Sure! Oops, broken and dislocated elbow, two surgeries and an awesome scar. They were especially nice to me that week. Bottom line, I thought they were the coolest ever and could do no wrong and ALL of their ideas were great. I was also under the delusion that they thought I was cool, too.