When I read the writing prompts for this week for Mama Kat’s, I laughed out loud at the prompt about shoving someone, so I had to join in this week!
When I was little (around 4?) my mom babysat for her cousin sometimes. We went to their house and I would play with her girls. I was an only child (until I was 8), so it was a lot of fun to play with (at that time-there ended up being 5) 3 other girls that were around my age! Jennifer was a few years older, but Patrice was only 3 months older than I was, and their little sister Kristina was around 2 at the time. Maybe 3!
Patrice and I were playing. I can’t remember what, exactly, but I was pushing something. It was a toy shopping cart, or maybe a little stroller. Something with a doll in it, at any rate. I had my doll, Patrice had her doll, and Kristina had her own doll. Only, she was 2, so she wanted all of the dolls. Patrice just kept taking hers back calmly. I was getting angry, though. I mentioned I was an only child, and yesterday I mentioned I was selfish, so my frustration at this situation was inevitable. It wasn’t that I minded sharing, but she wanted to have ALL of the dolls.
I reached the end of my little, tiny 4 year old rope. I was trying to push the-I’m still not sure what it was. I was trying to push the thing down the hall because my doll had to go potty or something. Here came Kristina again! As she reached into my *miscellaneous pushable toy* to get the doll, I used my elbow to try to move her. It wasn’t hard. It was not a forceful shove. It just so happened, though, that there were stairs behind her. Not a whole flight! It was a split level house, so it was only 5 or 6 stairs. Not that that makes it any better…
I shoved the baby down the stairs.
Nobody has ever let me live it down. Every single time I see Kristina to this day, she brings up the time I pushed her down the stairs. It has been 24 years. We have both moved on. We have kids now. She’s still not over it. …and I still feel terrible!
I realize that things like this happen with siblings all the time. I watched my brother and sister knock each other over all the time. My brother made my sister need stitches. I still can’t believe I did that, though, and I still remember how terrified I was watching her tumble down the stairs, unable to catch her.
So, I’m sorry, Kristina. I really, really am! I feel guilty enough on my own. I think it’s time we moved past all of this!