Being a Younger Sibling
I am a younger sibling. I have so many fond memories with my older siblings: spending a day with my sister at her college, going to King’s Island—an amusement park in Cincinnati—with my older brother, and living in my sister’s house for a year, with the only stipulation being that I babysit her cats when she goes out of town. The best part? They always paid for everything.
But I have always wished I had a sibling who was significantly younger than me. Although I do have a younger brother, he is only two years younger, so I never had the chance to take on the role of the doting older sibling. I wanted to take a younger sibling on special outings, spoil their dinner with chocolate, and then hand them back to our parents to deal with the inevitable sugar high.
This au pair gig has given me that opportunity. On Thursday, I took Georgia out for a girls’ night. She had told me she wanted to try sushi, and I love sushi, so it was the perfect plan. All week, Georgia had been buzzing about it.
“I’m excited for this week,” she said on Monday.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because Wednesday is skating, and Thursday is sushi!” she replied with a grin.
I smiled to myself. She had been asking me about sushi for so long, and honestly, I was craving it too.
Finally, Thursday arrived. When I picked up Georgia and Oliver from school, Georgia was practically bouncing in her seat, ready for sushi. I told her she would have to wait until dinner, and though she frowned slightly, I was glad she was so excited to try it.
When dinnertime rolled around, Georgia and I hopped in the car, ready for our girls’ night. I played some Taylor Swift as we drove to the sushi restaurant, which was only about eight minutes from the house. The restaurant was small, with rolls of sushi displayed behind glass. We browsed for a bit before choosing a chicken and lettuce roll and a prawn and cucumber roll.
Sitting at the table, we dug in. Georgia was quiet for most of the meal, savoring her sushi. She even dipped it in soy sauce, and I was thrilled to have found a new sushi buddy.
After dinner, we went out for ice cream. Georgia and I each got a cone, but I felt bad for leaving Oliver out. So, I got him a scoop of chocolate ice cream to take home. We hurried back because his ice cream was melting quickly. With both kids buzzing from their sugar rush, I waved to their dad and escaped to my room. The kids went to bed a bit later than usual, but oh well—Georgia got her sushi, and Oliver got to spend the evening with his dad.
Next time, I will take Oliver out for some one-on-one time, giving Georgia a chance to spend an evening with her parents. Knowing Oliver, we will probably end up at McDonald’s, since that is about the only thing he will eat.
After this one night, I feel like I have finally lived out my dream of being the older sibling. While it was fun, I am more than happy to go back to being the younger sibling—and my bank account definitely agrees.
