All because I ate one bite of last night’s leftovers.
My younger sister suddenly saw the light. She stared into my eyes as if she’d discovered a whole new world:
“Do you really think this is safe to eat?”
I looked down at the ribs Grandma had just made last night and nodded, clueless.
[Going hungry for no reason. Serves her right!]
[If she loves leftovers so much, she can hurry up and eat herself to death!]
Only later did I learn that I was the nitpicky older sister in a worldly drama, forcing myself to suffer when there was no need.
My younger sister was the free-spirited heroine who respected other people’s choices.
Later still, when my sister cried and said she wasn’t free-spirited anymore and knew she’d been wrong,
my whole family stopped indulging her.
