Whenever my family is gathered around a table for any length of time, consuming a meal together, my sister will inevitably start telling stories about how me (and my brother, but mostly me) tormented her when she was little. She is the baby of the family, nine years younger than me and six years younger than my brother. She loves to recount how her sweet little innocent childhood was tainted by her older siblings making her the subject of experiments, scaring the wits out of her for fun, and taking advantage of her good nature. These stories always invoke the desired response - my mom saying, "oh that's terrible!" while looking at me with disdain and showering my sister with sympathy.

As if things were so clear cut. For one thing, I don't even remember most of the things my sister claims took place. I swear she's making them up for effect. Secondly, her innocent act is all a ruse. She's always known how to manipulate my parents for sympathy and affection. I can remember her complaining about things I allegedly did and then sticking her tounge out at me from the safety of behind a parent. When I would point out that she was sticking out her tounge, she would instantly transform her face into a sad, victimized expression that would make it impossible to believe the truth.

Her most recent story at our most recent family gathering sounded like something she had invented on the spot. I have absolutely no recollection of it whatsoever. She said that once when she was five or six (making me fourteen or fifteen at the time) I was hanging out with a group of friends in our basement family room. She claims that I called her to come in and then asked her to tell us what swear words she knew, purely for the sake of our entertainment. She supposedly responded that she couldn't say because Santa Claus was listening to which I purportedly replied, as if it were the most obvious thing ever, "Santa can't hear you in the basement!" You know, on second thought, that does sound like something I would've said.
  ¶ 3:36 PM