I'm not a mother, yet, but I'm just as protective of my 2 younger sisters. One is 16 and the other is 12.

I remember the older one coming to me one morning with her bed sheet in her hands when she was 13, covered in blood.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS!" She screamed.

I gave her the talk, and some "things" (she still calls them that), and she was fine.

I still remember when the youngest was about 3, she was allergic to milk and wasn't allowed those little pot shot yogurts. I remember my mother catching her at the fridge, surrounded by empty pots, covered in yogurt.

"Stacey, what are you doing?"
"Me, mam? Nithing mam" (North east of wscotland accent here)
"What's that on your face?"
"Nae wogurt, mam."
"You sure?"
"Me nae eat wogurt, mam, me nae loud wogurt."

She was so sweet, a mop og strawberry blonde curls, big blue eyes.

my mother told me a few months ago she'd started her period. Painful periods seem to run in our family, so I got the kettle on, hot water bottle & a cuppa for her. I went into her room, and here she is, crying her big blue eyes out in pain.

"I don't want to grow up, I don't want to be a woman. Roll on the menopause."

I was horrified, where had my wogurt stealing baby sister gone?