Selma and Pattie

For those of you who know me, you inevitably have run into, or heard of, my two younger sisters. This is especially true if you have kids the same age as ours, since we three seem to be in the same birthday party loop. At these parties (and at every get-together they've attended since they were teenagers), it seems that there is always a scene where these two sisters have an almost tangible bond between them, something like twins would have, which is manifested by--well, cackling is a negative and inaccurate way to put it. It's definitely dramatic laughter and it's usually a joke that only they understand. Just like twins.

My two younger sisters also have that typical sisterly bond with me (and my older sister); I can count on them for creative, enlightening opinions on anything from the mundane to the sublime. I can actually count on that from my older sister, as well (and my sister-in-law). But, despite feeling included in their lives, there is that exclusiveness to their jokes that reminds me, of, well, twins. And the dramatizing part of my mind always leads me to compare them (and my relationship to them) to Selma and Patty Bouvier, the twin sisters of Marge Simpson.

Which, of course, leaves me as Marge.

I'm actually not all that familiar with Selma and Pattie's characters. But I do know that, like the twins, my sisters have forceful personalities, ghastly, creative senses of humor, and a certain amount of chutzpah that makes for some really odd situations. Here are some examples:

When they were teenagers, we lived across from a ritzy golf course. The house across the street from us was owned by an up-and-coming couple that the decade would have deemed "yuppies". They would have parties on their lawn and my sisters, fed up with the pretentiousness of it all, decided to make it look like they were spying from their bedroom window that overlooked the house. "Make it look" is the operative term, because what they did was hold up beer bottles to the window so that it looked like binoculars were focused on the partygoers. How weird is that? Not to spy, but to make people think that someone was spying on them. That was the prank.

They were also notorious just for being themselves. Some of their victims were friends of my younger (and their older) brother. These were "cool" guys who got absolutely no respect from Selma and Pattie. One of these friends would walk around shirtless, reminding everyone in that decade of the up-and-coming actor, Brad Pitt. Selma and Pattie would laugh at him. Openly. And genuinely. Another one of these guys, now a full grown man, had dinner at my house not too long ago, and virtually paled when my sisters entered the room. He smiled a dry-mouthed smile at them and was pretty quiet the whole night. I think he actually said, "not you two" when he saw them.

I think Selma and Pattie (if I'm correct) scared Homer and made Marge appear kind of weak, but nonetheless on par with them. That's how I feel with my sisters when they're in their "mode": grown men can be brought to their knees and I just stand by and, if only metaphorically, do that disapproving Marge Simpson groan (<-click there).