Schadenfreude
Lauren King
Schadenfreude: the pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune.
We all do it; laugh when someone slips on ice, chuckle when a pull door is pushed, snigger at the sight of toilet paper stuck to a shoe.
Schadenfreude is in our bones.
I have a younger sister, who can be a bit “challenging” to get along with. I spend very little time with her but when I do, I am in charge. Obviously; she is six after all. When telling her to do something, I get hit with the classic, “you’re not the boss of me”. You’re right. I’m not. So, I take a step back and let her face the wrath of my father instead.
Mr King will take no nonsense from anyone, except from me (I’m his favourite). If he tells you to do something, you cannot let him see your eyes roll or hear the mutters from underneath your breath, or there will be serious trouble. I get away with a lot because he knows I won’t listen to him anyway – I just do my own thing and go to him when I need money. Our relationship is him knowing he can’t control me, and it works. Very well actually. It’s a relationship which many would find “dysfunctional”, but it functions with very little faults.
Back to my sister.
She tries to be like me – doesn’t listen to anyone and thinks she’s a queen. I am flattered but it makes me realise how annoying I must be to others. Just kidding, I am a queen *flips hair* Due to her young brain and utter stupidity, she rolls her eyes at him. But the problem it that she can’t come back with a cheeky comment or clever argument to get herself out of trouble – it’s a talent that takes years to perfect. I definitely wasn’t born with such a gift, I worked hard to earn my rightful place as the favourite child.
Picture the scene in Shrek where the eponymous ogre shouts “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SWAMP?” That’s what my father sounds and also kinda looks like (minus the green).
How does this relate back to schadenfreude? Well, when I hear the deep bellowing of the infamous shout, know, perhaps too much, amongst my siblings mixed with the everlasting sobs, I can’t help but smile. It sounds awful, but it warms my insides. Maybe it’s knowing that I’m not the one who’s getting struck with spit due to the lack of distance and excess of volume. Or the excitement of winding them both up post-telling-off.
Before you tell me that I am a horrible person, sister and daughter, I love my sister. I would do anything for her, she is my only sister after all. However, when her annoying, know-it-all phase ends the true sisterhood can begin. Being the youngest, it can’t be easy for her to live up to the other three children. She does try. I just find it funny when her attempts to stand up to our dad fail, and that’s schadenfreude. A feeling we all experience, but few will admit.
Anyway.
Moral of the story: don’t roll your eyes at my father.
~favourite child~
