I've actually been related to my sister my whole life

When I was ten my bedroom was packed up and moved to the basement for health reasons.  A decade later, I've finally started going through it.  This is what I've discovered in my archaeological dig through my accidental time capsule.


Erin and I get along quite well now, but that wasn't always the case.  Here are some pictures and a story showcasing the good times and the bad.

I'm fairly certain that this is the set-list for a revue we were planning.  We choreographed and performed a dance to Lucky, but I don't think the others ever made it beyond this list.

I discovered this View-Master disk that I altered.  I suspect it was part of a revenge scheme to prove my (obvious) superiority.

Can you figure out what's the same about these two toys?

Everything, actually.  They're two of the same reversible toy.

I prefer it in the horrific in-between state.  OMG THAT BEAR IS BEING EATEN BY SOME MEDIOCRE CHOCOLATE

There is a long and ridiculous story about this boombox and the matching blue one Erin had.  This is my blog, so I'll only tell my side of the story:

I had a mostly pleasant and enjoyable youth.  I wanted for little and my every need was met.  My only problem was a mean and oppressive sister who always got her way.  Her attitude then was "what's mine is mine and what's yours is mine".  (Little has changed.)  One year, for Christmas, Santa brought brilliantly colored matching boomboxes for me and Erin.  Things in the Maddens household were happy.  Each child could listen to the music he or she enjoyed most, and it happened that this was often the same music, so things were all the better.

Until one day... Erin lost her power cord.  Chaos ensued.  She soon came to the conclusion that if she did not have her own power cord, she would have to use mine.  For the first time in my life, I had the opportunity to gain control of a situation.  For the sake of little siblings everywhere, I stood up to her.

"No, Erin!  You can't have my power cord!  It's mine."

"But you're not using it!"

"Ah yes, dear sister, but I may want to in the near future, and you won't want to give it back."

"Mom, Dad, Kyle won't let me use his power cord."

"It's his power cord, if he wants to be selfish, he can be."

Selfish?  Petty?  Yes.  But it wasn't about the power cord.  It was about the power over my sister's tyranny that I had for the first time in my life.  It was drawing a line in the sand.  To this day we are all reluctant to lend her something, knowing that in her mind it will soon belong to her and we may never see it again.

Some extra facts: I eventually lent the power cord to her.  And I found her boombox in the basement with my power cord attached to it.  Also, this whole problem could have been solved with the use of batteries.  But really, even in the Nineties we weren't crazy enough to use twenty D batteries or whatever that kind of gadget took.

I invite Erin to write her side of the story and I'll post it here.  But I think this is a fair and accurate representation in which I graciously concede that I was somewhat in the wrong, but that circumstances dictated my need to take a stand against an evil empress.

Erin and I were born three years and three months apart.  Though we grew up together, evidence suggests that we were not of the same generation.

You know what would make a great children's toy?  A really creepy alien.  We'll call him E.T.

I may have been born in 1989, but toys like this prove that Erin was the only true Eighties child in the family.