The Pros and Cons of Harvard Siblings

MY sister Beth has confused almost all of the facts. Having me here is the best thing that has happened to her since I stopped stealing the candy bars out of her lunch.

Beth began the year hopelessly lost. The night before registration she showed up in my room waving a schedule she claimed was perfect. I still don't know how she found a class that met at 7:30 a.m. in Vanserg.

I also cannot figure out why she considered five English seminars "perfect," but in her delusions, she did. Fortunately, I was there to guide her into the wonderland of the Core. And how would she know about Gen Ed 105, if not for me?

So many times I have helped this ingrate. While her friends languished in lines at Store 24 that went back to the freezer, I introduced Beth to Christy's. Our first week together I took her to Tommy's and Elsie's and all the fine eating establishments.

When the Student Employment Office assigned her to wash dishes at Currier House, it was I who found her a cushy library job.

NONE of those revelations, of course, came out in her version. Instead, I am the ogre who made her do my laundry. The truth is that she volunteered. She offered to help after I threatened to tell our parents about her score on the QRR.

Her problem is that our parents always loved me more. That explains why Beth is so reluctant to give me credit for being a good brother. She, like most little sisters, is emotionally disturbed. Coming second all the time does something to the poor wretches.

So Beth should be grateful that I am here to shield her from Harvard's more dangerous traumas. Some laundry now and then seems a small price to pay for my caring protection.

Besides, if she doesn't stay on my good side, I might have to tell everyone about the hideous date she took to the senior prom. Facts are such stubborn and useful things--especially for big brothers.