Many people have older sisters.  Very few of them have six.  I do.  Many people have sisters who are tougher than them and most people in the neighborhood.  Very few have six tougher than anyone in their zip code.  I did.

All of our sisters grew up in a glorious Catholic family, attending church each Saturday or Sunday.  Our sisters were angels most of the time and, hoping to stay in the good graces of God, said their prayers before bedtime and stood out as upstanding, smart, and hardworking citizens.  Then, every once in a while, someone would cross them.  Enter Satan’s little helpers.  If you messed with my sisters, you were simply deemed a fool whose face could be departed.  A fool and his money are soon parted?  No.  A fool crossing my sisters would only be deprived of one thing……blood. Trying not to be be overly dramatic, I did pity the fools who tested my sisters’ reputation as Jekyll and Hyde-ish.  Let’s just say they are probably on a “do not trifle list” managed by the government.

I’ll share an example.  My sister, Dorothy, was walking my sister Maggie to her first day of school.  Maggie was in elementary school and a bit nervous, so Dorothy was supposed to look after her.  Not to worry.  Dorothy did just that.  A student, who knew our family, made the mistake of calling Maggie “Maggie the Maggot.”  Walking up the flight of stairs, he would learn his lesson by having to walk that flight again, if he could, after Dorothy turned red, grew horns, formed a tail looking like a trident and tossed him down that flight of stairs.  “Call my sister that again, and I won’t make it that easy.  Consider yourself warned.” He never did it again.  And, it turns out, this guy was one of Dorothy’s friends.  She’s also infamous for ripping our brother Greg’s pants and shoes off, then making him walk through misty morning dog feces after he had forgotten a key part of his daily chores.

Now a mother of three, and a wife to “bless his soul” Steve for forty years, Dorothy is still alive and throwing.  Her fierce protection of others is one of many ways she shows compassion for her loved ones.  That being written, when pissed off, she will suffer no fools.

When on my side, I never felt nervous in her presence, unless I had done something wrong and feared being punished to the point of submission.  Ok, Dorothy,….that’s enough.

God Bless Dorothy.  God Bless them all.