In the days before sister three came along, when we were little, sister one, I mean I was little and you were always bigger, when we lived in South Africa, and I followed you around, and did what you did, and felt really big, there were new neighbours one day, with a daughter your age by the name of Sarah. I remember her name because it is the same as our cousin’s. She had light blonde hair. You seemed to like each other and went off and played together. I was having none of this. At the first opportunity I found I went up to this girl Sarah and bit her in her arm, hard. The mother later lined us up in their garden and showed me poor Sarah’s arm with the teeth marks still visible. As the teeth marks matched the size of my teeth, there was no denying it. The mother sternly told me off. I sulkily said I am sorry but really didn’t mean a word of it. How dare she try and come between me and my big sister? Anyway, it seemed to do the trick, because I don’t remember seeing her again.
if you are out there, sarah, I am really sorry, retroactively.