The question came from Lori -- What is your first memory of my father and your sister?
I was three (almost) when my sister was born. She was brought home from the hospital one week before I was three years old and I do remember that. I remember -- I mean I can see this so clearly -- my mom coming in the front door holding this tiny baby (Debbie) and she looked so very, very happy. My father announced to me that the child's name was Deborah Rose Drexler (accent on the "bor" syllable) , but called her Deb from the first. When we got to high school I started calling her "Drex" and that has stuck. Most of the time I call her Drex.
Being the older sister, I always was superior in my mind to her. She was my little sister. I knew more. But...she (Deb) always had more style than me. Her fashion sense was impecable. I envied her that. I always felt like I looked like a dork (that wasnt' the word back then, but my mind isn't recalling the word I'm trying to find).
A year and a half later my brother Mark was born. He was a screamer. I do remember that. He one of those high-pitched cries that let you know he wanted something.
I recall one night he had just fallen asleep and I went into the room where the crib was located and poked him to test if he was really asleep. Well, he woke up with a start and started screaming at the top of his lungs. My mom came in and asked if I had waked him. I told her no. I figured he wouldn't have waked up that fast from the tiny poke I gave him as a test to see if he was, in fact, awake.
Amazing how you can always justify half-truths, isn't it?
More to follow (MTF).