In ANYTHING FOR YOU, both the hero and heroine have significantly younger siblings. Jessica has Davey, seven years younger, and Connor has Savannah, twenty-three years younger, the child of his father and stepmother.
I have a younger sister, and I love her terribly much. However, we Higlets are called “stairstep kids”—our ambitious young parents had three kids in four years. My sister is just 14 months younger than I am. We were one grade apart in school, and my lofty status as her big sister meant…squat. We had the same bedtime. We could walk home alone the same day. She was as tall as I was, so carrying her around was not easy.
Not to take anything away from my sissy, I wanted a baby to play with. I repeatedly asked for another sibling from my parents. I wasn’t fussy, either. I’d take a boy if necessary, so long as he was named Johnny.
Well, my stingy parents failed to come through, so I turned to the big man. Santa. He, too, totally let me down. “I’d like a baby for Christmas,” I told him one year.
“You’ll have to ask your parents,” he said.
As if I hadn’t already tried. Everyone knows Santa is supposed to come through when parents don’t.
My baby never came, but I got lucky on one front—25 younger cousins. Not quite as lucky as Connor and Jess, but I’ve learned to accept my sorry, two-only sibling state. But if my mom wanted to adopt a kid, I wouldn’t say no. Even if I am fifty years old.
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