I am an older sister, so I know a great deal about compromise, toy repair, and first aid for a nosebleed. Having recently moved away from home, I have found, much to my dismay, that my lectures and anecdotes are being redirected to my two younger roommates. I am aware they don’t need me to warn them about the dangers of going out without warm clothing, or require unsolicited advise on anything.
Even though, having the top bed in a triple room is kind of like being someone’s older sibling. See, you want to get a good look at everything that is happening in the room, just in case something goes wrong or you want to ignore it! Odd numbers inevitably put someone in the middle, so background as an older sibling instantly gives you an edge in bargaining.
Although I miss my siblings everyday, my roommates keep me busy. For instance, usually my tool box it used to repair broken dolls, and just the other day I had to (safely) smash open a tuna can with a chisel and hammer, since no one on the floor including us had a can opener.
Luckily, my life on the top bunk has been going well. My two wonderful roommates understand my goofiness and I love them like my own siblings, so long as no one forgets to buy toilet paper I think we’ll be fine.