Having a much younger sister is a rollercoaster ride—one moment she’s the cutest thing ever, and the next, she’s roasting you so hard you question your existence.
I mother her all the time, yet somehow, when we fight, I magically downgrade from a mother figure to a chaotic sibling. Take our daily tea-time ritual for example: I habitually make tea in the evenings, and if I dare to forget her milk, she blasts me like a strict boss reviewing an employee’s poor performance. "How dare you forget my milk?" And if I even suggest skipping tea myself, she dramatically demands that I quit tea forever. She wants to be treated like a child, but will fight me like a sibling.
And then there are the savage roasts.
The other day, I was in a sentimental mood, adoring her and lamenting how quickly she was growing up. I said, "When did my baby grow up so fast? You're turning 8 next year… it feels like just yesterday I held you in my arms."
Did she take it as affection? No.
Instead, she looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Just yesterday you were 13. Now look at you, you turned 20. Soon enough, you'll be 30."
…EXCUSE ME???
This little girl knows that "30" is a trigger word for us twenty-somethings, and she used it against me. A true menace.
And don’t even get me started on how she tricks me into watching old cartoons. She’ll innocently bring up a childhood show, making me reminisce, and while I get lost in nostalgia, she smoothly grabs my phone and starts watching it. Manipulation at its finest.
But the real criminal act? I still remember the time she could barely walk, yet somehow crawled her way to my books, took my favorite bookmark, dunked it in water, and then gave it to me as a drink. And what did I do? Absolutely nothing. Because no matter how much of an evil genius she is, she’s too cute to stay mad at.
And let’s talk about the biggest realization of all.
Before she came along, I was that person who LOVED babies. I found them adorable, innocent, and the ultimate source of happiness. I would literally daydream about being the cool older sister.
Fast forward to now? I am NOT having kids. Ever.
Watching this little gremlin operate at full capacity has changed me. The drama, the sass, the constant energy—I have seen the truth. My maternal instincts have packed their bags and left the chat. I love her, but I am not signing up for this in the future.
Moral of the story? Having a young sister means constantly switching between being her second mom, her best friend, and her ultimate roast target—all while questioning who’s really in charge. And most importantly, it turns you from a baby lover to a baby dodger real quick.
About the Author:
This post was submitted by Muzaina, a content writer with over two years of experience crafting compelling and insightful pieces. With a background in Artificial Intelligence, she enjoys blending technology with storytelling to make complex ideas accessible. Her journey has included copywriting, content strategy, and deep dives into emerging trends. At her core, Muzaina is an explorer—always curious, always learning, and always looking for the next idea to bring to life. When not writing about tech, she channels her creativity into poetry, turning emotions into resonating words.
Disclaimer:
This article is the intellectual property of the author and Asia91. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or use of this content in any form is strictly prohibited without prior written permission from the author.
Image Credit: Representative image generated by AI (Sora)