Why You Should Hire Big Sisters

Sweaty hands scramble for my pinkie. My brother's favorite way to get out of a headlock is to pull my fingers back as far as possible so I'll loosen my grip from around his throat.

But that doesn't work today.

I entrap one of his arms between my legs and he struggles to wriggle free. "All I wanted," I whisper at the back of his neck because he hates the feeling, "is to have a normal sibling chat with you. Why must you always greet me with a duel?!"

He grunts, determined to come out on top. His legs flail into the air, searching for the wall. He pushes up against me, shoving me up into his headboard.

Our younger brother runs up the stairs after hearing the commotion. I hesitate. I'm not sure I can take both of them at once.

He bursts in the room and cuts the light on. "Wha...What are you guys doing?"

I fumble for the words to try to smooth-talk my way out of fighting both of them; he usually sides with his big brother when we're wrestling. But he's not here to fight.

"Tria, just come downstairs. A frog got in the house and mom said you have to come catch it."

I float to the door in disbelief. I make him repeat himself just to make sure he's not messing with me. He's not. I go downstairs to find my mom crouched in a corner with some tupperware clutched to her chest. She scurries over to hand it to me. "Catch it, Tria."

The tiny creature rests on our kitchen window as if it has lived in this house with us for years.

Picture by lostastic on Flickr

"Okay," I say. I'm trying to psyche myself into doing this. The frog is super cute, but all I can imagine is it jumping straight for my jugular the moment I go to put the bowl over it - its little, tiny frog fingers wrapped around a little, tiny knife that it holds at my neck.

But my mom and two baby brothers are watching me, and we can't go to sleep with a frog in our house. I slam the container atop the amphibian. It hops around in the bowl while I slide a paper plate underneath to lock it in. I only yelp a little bit as I flip the container over and run outside to release it.

After a few encouraging shakes, it reluctantly hops out into the dark abyss of the night. I tilt the cowgirl hat I was wearing the whole time in the frog's general direction. I hear a soft "ribbit" in the distance. Rough translation: "Kiss me; I'm a prince. Okay, not really...but you are my queen."

I re-enter the house a hero.

Such is the life of a big sister. I conquer fears and learn new skills instantaneously on a daily basis to save my brothers and to save face. Those little gremlins think I can do anything and because of that, I can.

A frog got in the house? I'll handle it. The garbage disposal is broken? I'll handle it. Brother wants me to learn Adobe After Effects specifically so I can animate him doing a "kamehameha blast?" Alrighty then. Guess I'll figure that out too.

Big sisters are versatile because they have to be. We're efficient and we cast aside all fears to venture into the unknown. Added bonus: we hold a mean headlock.

So, yeah. Hire me.

About the Author: Katria Farmer is a freelance communications consultant in Wilson, NC specializing in copywriting and graphic design. Her B.A. is in communication studies and her M.A. is in strategic communications. She serves Wilson, Rocky Mount, Raleigh, Chapel Hill and surrounding areas. Learn more about working with her: https://www.katriafarmer.com/about