Sisters Suck Sometimes

I was little—too little to read, too little to know any better, and apparently, just the right size to be fooled by my two older sisters, Amber and Lisa.

It was Christmas time, and the house smelled like cinnamon and pine. The twinkling lights on the tree reflected in my , innocent blue eyes. That’s when Amber and Lisa, my all-knowing, much-older sisters, took me by the hand and led me to our parents’ bedroom.

“We have something to show you,” they whispered, very serious, like spies on a secret mission.

They opened Mom and Dad’s hope chest—a magical wooden box filled with mysterious adult things I was never allowed to touch. They pulled out some old papers and held them up to me.

“This,” Amber said, waving the papers dramatically, “proves you’re adopted.”

I gasped. It made so much sense! Amber and Lisa had long, silky light brown hair and brown eyes. I had short, fuzzy white hair, blue eyes, and freckles. I looked nothing like them! Of course, I was adopted!

I felt my little heart sink. “But—where’s my real family?” I squeaked.

“They probably live far, far away,” Lisa said with a sigh. “Maybe even… in another country.”

“But you can’t tell Mom and Dad,” Amber added quickly. “You’re not supposed to know.”

I nodded solemnly, holding back tears. This was big.

I spent the rest of the night staring at the Christmas tree, my tiny brain working overtime. Were my real parents out there, looking for me? Had they sent me here on accident? Was I actually a lost princess?!

I didn’t tattle. Not right away, at least. But eventually, I caved, running to Mom and blurting, “AM I ADOPTED?!”

She just sighed, called Amber and Lisa into the room, and gave them the look. They glared at me, they were busted.

Turns out, the “adoption papers” were just boring old documents that had nothing to do with me. But honestly? For a moment there, I was kind of excited about my secret, mysterious past.