You’ve done many incredible things for your little sister over the years.
Not long after Sassy was born you bit her on the leg so hard that they heard her blood-curdling screams in the next county. The fact that you bit her because she wouldn’t STOP screaming after we brought her home was ironically not funny.
You colored her blue from head to toe with a permanent marker I had in my teacher bag. She resembled a smurf for weeks, and while you thought it was comical we did not.
You gave her chicken pox, a disastrous haircut, your hand-me-down clothes, coats, shoes and purses. She stole your jewelry, new clothes, sweatshirts and pocket change. She’s rescued you from situations, and you’ve done the same.
You’ve pulled each other’s hair, held each other down and had incredible screaming and fighting matches that we could have made a TON of money on if only we had known about You-tube.
You’ve held each other in times of trouble, supported and loved each other without question, and spoken on the phone daily for the last three years. You’ve reminded me about why I love my own sister so much, and it brings me great joy.
But when you offered to hold Sassy’s hair if she throws-up tonight after the bar-tour you’ve planned for her 21st birthday, you went above and beyond the call of duty.
Now, if only I hadn’t heard that little tidbit. (Cheezus, I’ve got enough to worry about in the middle of the night.)
Sassy’s 21? Buckle up, everyone. It’s going to be a bumpy night.