My little sister has made irritating me into an Olympic sport.
If I ignore her, she keeps going. If I tell her to stop, she doubles down until I snap—then it’s all “Okay, okay,” or “Don’t be such a spaz” in that smug, sarcastic voice that makes me want to lose it.
She’s younger, parents always take her side, and I’m stuck yelling while she smirks. I’m so done with it.