On hand-me-downs

Every child with an older sibling had the misfortune of hand-me-downs. Pity the poor child who's older sibling is then the opposite sex, like I was with BLS. The hand-me-downs started almost immediately with my first, and longest serving teddy. A small white teddy with felt eyes, it belonged to Susan until I made my entry into this world. My mum said I needed a teddy, and BLS, being the caring child willingly gave up this one (see under "no, he can't have any of my teddys.").
Her generosity was unsurpassed. She showed me the dangers of fire, not to put my finger into the sunbed, and on occasion even managed to get me encumbered with the blame for something completely not my fault, meaning I learned to be punished (even when it wasn't my fault). As we grew older, I gained further hand-me-downs. I had my bedroom kitted out in posters that had been hers (long live the wombles), furniture that had been hers (captain's bed, anyone?) and even one year her old easter eggs because she'd eaten too much chocolate. Fortunately even my parents weren't cruel enough to make me wear her clothes (well there was that one time, but we'll skip over that), but her toys became mine as she cast them aside.
The biggest thing I'd get was a bike that had been hers for a couple of years, and this included her now very tired 1974 chopper with rusty seat and broken window on the gear lever. I'd also gotten her Phillips Videopac when she'd found out about boys, along with the 20 or so games. I'd also gained the Spectrum, something that had been both of ours originally, so it wasn't all bad. I'd like to say she'd also given me chicken pox, but for some reason I never got that from her.
The best thing she ever gave me, by being the scheming sister from hell, was patience. Biding my time, I repeatedly got revenge. Something I still have today.