Dad likes to joke that there's estrogen literally dripping from the walls of our house. If I were to ever see little drops of estrogen sliding down the wallpaper, I doubt I'd be very surprised. With 5 women(6 including or dog), girly behaviors are to be expected.
I was/am the test run. Mom and Dad knew to take the Barbie shoes off of the little girls' dolls, because I ate quite a few. Mom and Dad knew not to walk Emily into 6th grade, because they had mortified me 2 years earlier. Mom and dad knew never to let the little girls wear black eyeliner, because everyday for 2 years I left the house looking like I had rubbed coal all over my eyes.
I'm kind of rambling, but the point of this post is to tell you that I love being the oldest. I love that I came first, and I love that I got to be the test run. Mostly because of this story:
When I turned 16, all of a sudden I was allowed to invite boys over to "hang out." This had never happened in the Stolworthy house, and every time it did, believe me it was an event. Emily, Hailey, and Ally would parade in and out of the room telling embarrassing stories about me, blending things for no reason(other than to be annoying), and doing gymnastic tricks right in front of the t.v.
Usually I'd let them be crazy for 2.6 seconds and then yell, "Mooooooooooooooooom get them out of here."
Mature, I know. Mom doesn't reply to what she calls the "polish intercom system," so I usually had to go upstairs and hiss about how embarrassing my sisters were and beg my parents to put their children to bed. Mom and Dad would kind of roll their eyes(because I was ridiculously dramatic) and corral the little kids up stairs. One of the little girls managed to get out and sneak downstairs every time. I'm about 99% sure Dad was paying them to spy, but that's a debate for another time.
On this particular occasion Kayla Williams(Starbuck now) and I had a couple boys over to watch a movie. The little girls had finally left us alone, and we were trying to put the moves on these super hot guys.
Halfway through the movie we hear someone fart.
I blame Kayla, Kayla blames the dog, and we all just go back to watching the movie. It happens one more time, only we pass it off as a couch cushion noise.
Then it happens again, only this time louder and we just can't continue to ignore the trend. I blame Kayla again, she blames the dog again, and then we start to hear snickering.
We turn the lights on, and out rolls one of my sisters(I can't tell you which one) from underneath the coffee table. She had spying for an hour, and the only reason we found her is because she couldn't keep her farts to herself! My sister screams, "It was me, I farted! I farted 7 times!" and it was made abundantly clear, neither Kayla, nor the dog, was to blame.
This kind of precious blackmail, only comes about when you're the oldest, and it's stories like this one, I can't wait to tell future brother-in-laws. Payback little girls, pay back.