Childish Behaviour

Kelly Alaniz

11/27/2020

Prompt # 69

Childish Behavior.

 I've always been amazed at the fact there is one rotten apple in every family.

In mine, it is my older sister. I will call her "Mona" because she always has something to complain and moan about in addition to acting very childish.

I'm not kidding. My sister could find something to complain about if someone handed her a golden bag with a million dollars in it. She would have a tantrum because there might not be enough coins in it. But, she's always been a moaner as far back as I can remember.

Our mom always made excuses for her first born daughter.  I was number three so it seemed as though I was invisible. Although there were seven of us we all knew "Mona" was mom's favorite out of all of us kids. 

There were three boys and four girls in our family and it was almost as though

The rest of us kids didn't exist. 

The boys in my family didn't seem to care much because dad was always taking my brothers fishing, camping, or to baseball and football games, stuff like that. 

Mom was always doing things with her precious "Mona" like going shopping, going to hair appointments, or out to lunch while we three girls were left to clean up the house. We did  the laundry, cooked, washed dishes, swept and mopped the kitchen floor after dinner each night. Our older sister was always busy doing something else and couldn't be bothered to help with chores. We were also expected to have our homework done, take our baths and get ready for bed. Mind we only had one bathroom in our house so it was an ordeal every night waiting our turns. Did I mention that "Mona" always got her bath first in addition to being the first in line for everything. "Mona" also got pretty much anything and everything she wanted.

It was so maddening because she got that self satisfied look on her face and always had some snarky comment that she evidently thought would put the rest of us kids in our place.

The only reason as far as i could tell why our mom mollycoddled and gave in to "Mona" was because of the epic tantrums she threw whenever she didn't get her own way. 

I have never met anyone that could scream longer and louder than dear sweet "Mona."

One time mom had taken all four of us girls shopping for school clothes.  Mom also wanted to check out the new mall that had just opened downtown. 

There we were walking around looking at the window displays when "Mona"let out a piercing scream and ran towards a clothing store that catered to teens. 

She was babbling something about a purse that was on display. Sometimes "Mona" pitched her fits just for attention so it was hard to know if it was for the purse or she just wanted to create a scene for attention that day.

Of course my sister managed to draw the attention of several shoppers passing by including our mom who rushed to "Mona's" side to calm her down. 

To this day I cannot understand my older sisters need to be the center of attention. God knows she always had mom's attention. 

This must sound like jealousy on my part but it isn't. It is simply a question of why on earth have six more kids that my mother barely acknowledged if "Mona" was the fair haired child.

Normally this wouldn't be a big deal in a smaller family but there were six more of us waiting to have just a few minutes to talk to mom.

We complained about "Mona's childish, inconsiderate behavior, and her answer was the same every time. "Tough that's just the way it is get over it."

This didn't sit well with us girls, but there was nothing we could do about it. We tried to think of something to distract "Mona" but it's illegal to use dynamite on a family member.

We would just have to think up a less violent idea.

Mom and "Mona" were close, they did everything together. It was as though they were best friends instead of mother and daughter.

 Mom was only fifteen years old when Mona was born. I guess the short age difference made them feel like besties.

For example,

at family get togethers during holidays especially "Mona"would be second in command as far as helping our mother hostess these events. 

Days before the event "Mona" was too busy to help out with cooking and baking.  She always had other commitments somewhere else.

Funny how that always worked for her. If one of us other girls told mom we had a prior commitment

during holiday preparations we were met with, "absolutely not young lady." "If you know what"s good for you cancel it." "I expect you to help with the holiday preparations."  I loved baking so I really didn't mind helping with the food.

I often thought it was really unfortunate that my older sister didn't help out in the Christmas duties but she had always hated cooking. She acted as though housework and cooking were beneath her. So, my two sisters and I grew closer because of the time we spent together. Besides it was worth watching the guests devour our hard work and the compliments were nice.

"Mona" would always show up just in time to eat dinner with us and I secretly revelled at the pouty look she always got on her face when the compliments on our food 

started to flow. The attention she so badly wanted was not on her at that moment. However, "Mona" always found a way to regain the limelight such as during opening our presents.

I watched this scene play out so many times growing up I actually got anxiety before we even cleared the dirty plates and leftovers off the dining room table. 

It was always somewhat of an ordeal because we three girls minus "Mona"  had to perform our after dinner routine washing dishes, putting everything away, sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor. I have to admit we kept that kitchen so clean you could eat off the floor.

 While we were doing our after dinner chores the adults would gather in the den for after dinner drinks and "Mona" was always included because she would throw an awefull tantrum if she felt snubbed.  Mom didn't want to be embarrassed  in front of her guests by an 18 year old childish daughter so once again big sister got her own way.

Finally we girls were allowed to join the guests. As we walked in, there was my sister sitting on the edge

of our large coffee table in the middle of the den.

She had on a beautiful emerald color dress with matching necklace and drop earrings. It went nicely with her hair color which was naturally red.

I recognized the dress from the display window at the mall we were shopping at for school clothes. 

There "Mona" was installed on her throne with the peons at her feet. She absolutely glowed with joy at the attention she was receiving along with that condisending smirk on her face.

I always wondered what it would be like to slap that look off "Mona's" face just once. Instead I ignored her which seemed to annoy my older sister even more. I hoped she would throw a fit so all our relatives could see what a conniver she was.

Unbeknownst to all of us then, we were in for the temper tantrum of all time. 

A super melt down "Mona" style.

It began shortly before we settled in to open presents.

I'm surprised I didn't see it come over my sisters face. Here's how it happened.

Mother stood and raised her glass for the Christmas toast which was a tradition before we opened presents. The problem was it took the attention away from my sister. After the toast we gathered around the tree and before I could say anything my mom nominated me to hand out each gift. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was my fault for not handing "Mona" her present first. So, when I finally did give her a present I saw that the smirk had left her face only to be replaced with darkness and daggers flying from her eyes. They were directed at me and i shivered but kept handing out presents.

Finally, everything was distributed to family and friends so one at a time I got to choose who would be first to start opening presents. Mistake number three was just made and I glanced at my sister who's face was pinched and beet red with anger. She  was just on the edge of a fit. Our mother saw it too and was already headed over to "Mona"  in hopes of avoiding the evening's entertainment. I slunk back towards the kitchen door in case a fast escape was called for.

All the sudden one of my cousins let out a cry of joy upon opening her present which of course everyone turned to look at. The oohs and aauws did it plus the fact that the gift was the exact same purse

that "Mona" had coveted at the store in the mall the day we went shopping for school clothes.

It started with a low moan which quickly turned into a high pitched scream and then developed into a kind of shrieking growl! 

Mom just missed grabbing "Mona" by the arm when she lunged at our poor cousin. At that point I knew my sister was showing us all her true demented self.

I felt sorry for my mom briefly but she had a hand in letting "Mona" walk all over her. I did however feel sorry for our guests for a few minutes having to witness my sisters meltdown. But, I also felt a bit guilty for wishing my sister would reveal her true self.

As I watched from my safe vantage point, my sister was still screaming incoherently while ripping the purse away from my cousin. Then she doubled up her fists and started beating my poor cousin who went down quickly. People were gasping in shock, screaming, running for the nearest exit, and some were trying to pull "Mona" off my cousin to no avail. She was like a madwoman and so far out of control someone called 911 and the police showed up. My sister was eventually subdued and removed from the festivities.  It took five police officers to gain control of my sister that evening. She was still screaming and kicking as they took her away. Our guests were in shock and everyone took their unwrapped presents and left quietly.  My mother had retreated to her bedroom in shame and embarrassment while my dad played gracious host.

We never saw my sister again and were not allowed to speak her name in my parents presence ever again.i later heard from another family member that "Mona" had required heavy sedation upon arrival at a hospital they had taken her to that Christmas night. She just wouldn't calm down. Eventually my sister was put in a mental hospital as she had had a complete break from reality.

This was too much for my mom to endure and she was never the same again.

My dad was strong enough to care for mom and us kids. I think he did the best he could under the circumstances.

Evidently "Mona" required sedation everyday or she would scream about her purse being stolen. Finally, about two years later my sister killed herself over that dam purse and my mom died from a broken heart.