When my brother and I were growing up, the “holy nineties” reigned supreme. Life was interesting, but difficult.
My mom and dad disappeared into work and simply didn't have enough time to raise us. The most important thing was to feed us, clothe us, and keep us out of trouble, and the rest was up to us.
My brother, who is two years older than me, and I managed it with varying degrees of success. My brother and I were sick alone, we were in hospitals alone, we went to and from school alone, we wore latches around our necks, and from the age of six we could feed ourselves if there was anything in the fridge.
Before I was ten, I was making my own soup, frying potatoes, and even pancakes. Minding my own business and problems was the order of the day. My parents had other concerns back then. Our parents had a goal of making sure we didn't starve or freeze to death, and they succeeded. And we tried not to bother our parents with nonsense.
At the beginning of the 21st century, things were much better. My father got a good job, my mother went on maternity leave and gave birth to Ela, my younger sister. Apparently, my mother decided to invest all the unspent care, attention and love that she had not had time to throw at my brother and me, into our sister. Time was already calm, my father provided the family with everything it needed, my brother and I were old enough and independent, so my mother melted into my sister.
My brother and I watched our sister grow up with surprise, sometimes with regret, sometimes with envy. But more sympathetic. It seemed to us that the little flower under the hat had more freedom than our sister.
Dad looked at things more objectively and tried to reason with Mom, but he couldn't. We had a few serious arguments, and then Dad just gave up and decided that it was his job to support the family and Mom should take care of raising them.
Mum continued to do what she thought was right. No wonder my sister grew up as helpless as a newborn kitten. By the time she was twenty, all she could do was pour herself a cup of tea and make herself a sandwich, provided the bread, cheese and cold cuts were already cut.
The only appliances she knows how to use are the kettle and the microwave. Neither the washing machine nor the vacuum cleaner are under her control. Elizabeth, who is in her twenties, cannot take care of herself. She does not know what shampoo is right for her, what her blood type is or what she ate as a child.
She still goes to the clinic with her mother because there are angry aunts there who could hurt the girl. Apparently my sister was born with a soft nature herself, and on top of that, she was raised by a mother who turned her into a stuffed toy. I can't imagine how she'll find a job or how she'll work there.
Mom won't be able to work there, and I think Mom herself has already realized that she won't live forever and that her daughter will have to somehow continue living after Mom is gone. Instead of teaching her daughter to be independent, even if it was so late, she decided to take it out on my brother and me.
She took us in for a talk and told us that we were to take care of our sister after Mom was gone. We have tried to explain to her several times that she should start teaching Elka independence, but her mother immediately nipped all our efforts in the bud.
She says there is no need to abuse the girl. I don't understand my mother. She sees what she did, and instead of fixing it, she continues to do the same thing.
Take a look: We know what's next for the twins orphaned by Barbara Sienkiewicz. The MP doesn't beat around the bush