Although I am five years older, my sister Ellen and I have always been close. After I gave birth to my first child Oscar, I still loved getting dressed up with Ellen and heading out for a girls’ night on the town. But soon, with taking care of Oscar and money being very tight, our nights out became few and far between. Ellen had just quit her full-time job to study, so we decided to meet up once a week for lunch at my house instead.
Ellen would constantly complain about her lack of funds, despite always showing up in the latest fashion with perfectly coifed hair. “I hate living in student poverty!” she’d groan melodramatically and I’d laugh saying “Welcome to the real world, sweetheart!”
I had put her frivolous spending down to her age and I thought that she would immediately rearrange her priorities when her bills began to arrive.
A few weeks into her first uni semester Ellen called me…
“Hey Kate, is it okay if I borrow $200. I have to buy a whole load of textbooks for this subject”.
Although I was pretty skint myself, I couldn’t refuse helping out my sister, especially when it came to her education. After that, she constantly borrowed money from me for rent/books/food and still managed to show up with freshly done nails and the latest handbag.
I became frustrated — while I had to be practical for the sake of raising a small family, she had the nerve to take my money and never repay it so she could gallivant around campus in the flashiest trends.
One night I had finally been able to get the night off work. I organised a babysitter and arranged to go out for a dance with Ellen. Ellen arrived at my place to begin our pre-party pampering ritual. I was busy feeding Oscar before the babysitter arrived while Ellen was parading a new dress around the living room.
“How gorgeous is it! $600 would you believe?” she beamed.
“How on earth did you afford that?” I demanded incredulously.
“I’m taking it back to the store tomorrow, you see it’s like borrowing — I’m going to wear it tonight with the tags tucked and refund the purchase tomorrow. How awesome is that?!” she boasted.
Ellen tossed the dress on the couch and went to the bathroom to begin her beauty routine. I had an idea. I grabbed Oscar, who was just learning to crawl and dipped his hands in the bowl of spaghetti he was eating. I then sat him on the couch next to Ellen’s dress. In a matter of seconds the dress was covered in a pattern of sticky red little hands.
Ellen walked in a gasped in horror, “Noooooo! Oh no, oh no… I can’t afford this dress! I used my rent money to pay for it,” she cried.
I couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculous scene before me, Ellen with her head in her hands babbling about eviction and happy Oscar clapping his sauce-stained hands in glee.
Obviously, Ellen couldn’t return the dress but she did find away to make rent that week — buy auctioning off a few of her prized designer bags online.
I wish I could say that Ellen has changed since that incident but I’d be lying. She still lives way beyond her means and borrows money from whomever she can, but not from me anymore. And, as far as I know, Ellen has never pulled her dress scam again!
*All names in this story have been changed.
Picture: Getty Images. Posed by model.*
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