Our family is in crisis.
My sister and I were raised with the same belief system. We attended the same parochial schools, sang in the same Sunday choir and enjoyed nearly identical childhoods. We both attended college in Boston. For four years, we were proud New Englanders.
However, after she graduated, my sister moved to New York City where something terrible happened. It's painful to write about this, but she abandoned The One True Faith. I've tried to bring her back into the fold, but it's no use. Frankly, it's starting to affect my children. You know what I'm talking about, of course.
She's a Yankees fan.
We're a Red Sox family. Grace had a Sox binky before she had teeth, and William had his first Sox bib, well, before we had William. When they're older, my kids will be allowed to pick their high schools, dates, clothing and so on. However, they do not have a choice about baseball. They will join Red Sox Nation.
Much like Darth Sidious lured a young Darth Vader to the dark side of the force, my sister is exercising her influence on my children. It started with her teaching Grace to say "Jeter," the surname of Yankee shortstop Derek Jeter. Then the "I Love New York" T-shirts began to arrive. Recently she suggested that William's room needs an A-Rod poster to balance out the David Ortiz, Mike Lowell and Daisuke Matsuzaka images that already adorn the walls.
That's where I draw the line.
I love my sister, and my kids do, too. I want them to have a healthy and meaningful relationship. But as long as she's wearing the blue and white pinstripes, that won't come to its true fruition.
My question to you, reader, is this: How do you do it? Have you got Dallas Cowboys fans and Washington Redskins fans under one roof? Does mom say "football" when dad says "soccer?"
I'll take any advice you have, because it's tearing us apart.