When I was seven years old,
my mom brought home a little baby.
She told me her name was to be Anita
and she’d be a little lady.
At first I thought,
this is going to be really great.
Then the dirty diapers appeared
every time right after she ate.
She was as cute as a baby kitten
with big blue eyes and jet black hair.
She seemed often to be sick
which was so very unfair.
After lots hospital stays
and more trips to the doctor,
it seemed she was allergic
and we needed to protect her.
We had to watch what she ate,
and be careful what she wore.
To my seven year old eyes,
she seemed to be quite a chore.
Finally I was ten
and Anita had just turned three,
Mom & Dad were in the garden working
so she was stuck with me.
She said she was hungry,
but what could she eat?.
I opened the refrigerator
and we both took a little peek.
A piece of chunk bologna
sat forgotten in the back.
It was all green and spoiled,
no one could argue the fact.
But that was what she wanted
as I tried to tell her, not today.
But she was a stubborn little girl,
used to getting her own way.
She cried and sobbed
until I finally gave in.
I thought her quite silly
as she took the bologna and grinned.
I thought she was a brat
and would get what she deserved.
I watched her eat the green bologna
that I had just served.
When my parents came in,
it seemed the joke was on me.
They thought I’d poisoned my sister
and were as angry as could be.
I hung my head in shame
as my dad gave me a speech.
My mother grabbed the phone
and the doctor she quickly reached.
Feed her soapy water
was what the doctor said.
That made her throw up
and her face turned bright red.
I didn’t mean to hurt her,
she ALWAYS got what she wanted.
I thought I was doing the same
but Dad’s speech left me daunted.
From that day on
I became a better big sister.
Now I’m in my 60s,
she’s gone and I sure do miss her.