Three’s Company

Three’s Company

My thirteen year old son and my ten year old daughter get along well.  They have different likes and interests and don’t fight a lot.  Their biggest squabbles are what movies to watch on family movie nights and who ate the last ice cream bar.  While I think this is great, I can’t help but think of my own childhood that was sort of like “Hunger Games” in comparison.

Three Sisters

Looking back at my childhood, I have many fond memories.  Having two younger sisters was a lot of fun.  If I got into a fight with one sister, there was another one to take her place.  As the oldest sibling, I ruled the roost and made the laws.  I am two years senior to my middle sister P and almost 6 years older than J, the youngest.  For years, I was physically larger and taller than both of them.  Growing up with two younger sisters and two crazy parents can really sharpen a girl’s sense of humor and survival skills.  We fought about all kinds of things…not just movies or ice cream.  I don’t know when we started to joke about each other mercilessly or play pranks on each other…but it hasn’t stopped.

As a teenager, my room was covered with 80’s celebrities…JFK Jr., Duran Duran, the Soloflex guy.  I subscribed to Andy Warhol’s Interview magazine and watched Elsa Klench on Style.  I was just sooo cool.  One day I came to my room to find that there were mustaches on several of my posters.  That was call for extreme action.  I marched to J’s room and beat up Mingy, her favorite pillow.

Her name is not Rio.

For some strange reason, we were obsessed with lip balm in the 80’s.  Blistex in those round canisters was all the rage.  Keeping interlopers from my Blistex was practically a full time job.  I used my Blistex in a uniform and clockwise fashion, it was always clean and of course perfect.  My sister J’s Blistex had an upside cone design.  My sister P’s container always had fuzz, random bits of mystery flakes and looked like it was stabbed with a toothpick.  If I didn’t hide my Blistex, I would find that one of them had dug a nail into the middle of the canister!

Three’s a charm.



Secret video taping was also a constant danger in my house.  My sister J would place a cam corder on top of the fridge just to tape us with morning face and bed heads.  And forget about sleeping happily on tour buses while on vacation.  She made sure to take multiple shots of me dozing with my mouth open and my head in an angle that gave me two chins.

My sisters also had a collection of fake bugs.  I remember pulling back my comforter and finding a line of fake ants on my pillow.  I also let out a blood curdling scream when I found a large plastic spider in my dresser drawer.

Before you feel too sorry for me, I was not so innocent growing up.  I loved imitating my sisters, making up terrible nicknames and shaming them just for fun.  Luckily, as adults, the pranks have died down.  However, my sister J sent me a picture that my son had texted her.  It was a picture of me asleep on the sofa with mouth wide open and my head at an angle that allowed my chin to double!

Three’s Company


As a teenager in the 80’s, I eagerly awaited my Interview magazine every month.  Andy Warhol founded this oddly elongated and very stylish magazine.  The advertisements were amazing…Valentino, Absolut Vodka, Calvin Klein.  The pages featured everything and everyone that was cool at the time.  Cristy, Naomi, Linda, Cindy…I was really taken with one particular brand called “Organically Grown”.  I dragged my mom to shop for clothes with this label.  My first pair of Organically Grown shorts cost $32.  The was quite expensive back then.  I was so happy and wore those silly shorts everywhere for a long, long time.  Izod shirt, my new shorts and penny loafers were my uniform and brought me pure happiness and joy.  I felt invincible in that outfit cracking my Hubba Bubba bubble gum, listening to The Clash on my Sony MegaBass Walkman.


These days, I don’t get the same thrill with buying things, clothes or anything else for that matter.  Happiness is so different in my 40’s.  Both my sisters and many friends like designer labels.  I can’t imagine what the inventory of designer goods adds up to even in one of their closets.  Don’t get me wrong, I like nice things too,  but I just don’t get that feeling I used to get in my younger days.  Spending $1,200 on shoes doesn’t bring me elation.  I have bought many overpriced items only to realize that I don’t feel any happier with them.  My mom tells me I have become “an old lady” just like her.  I don’t have a desire to acquire things anymore.  Maybe it is a characteristic of getting older.


These days, I like feeling good.  That brings me happiness.  Nowadays, long runs make me feel like I’m invincible.  And not being injured is priceless.  Cooking keeps me content.  And illustrating lets me express myself.  My kids make me feel young again.  My husband makes me feel appreciated (…in his own way…that’s another post).  My parents make me feel important.  And my friends make me laugh and laugh at my lame jokes.  Excellent coffee and a really good margarita also make me happy!

I have become a minimalist.  Simple things and being content really do bring me happiness.