My Lovely Little Sister.

The word “sister” always conjures to mind the “Sisters” song from White Christmas.

One of the most thrilling things to my twelve year old self, upon the discovery that my Mom was pregnant with a girl, was that I would finally have someone to sing that song with!  My brothers were rather thrilled about it as well, given that it meant they had a fighting chance that I would no longer force them to perform it with me.

Their therapist thinks they ought to be coming out of the fetal position any day, now.

In nine days, I’m turning twenty-four. My sweet, twelve year old little sister [who, by the way is still alive, for any of you that are still concerned about this fiasco], snuck a little birthday present in my duffel when I left home several weeks ago.

Which, clearly, I opened and read immediately upon discovery. Patience has never been my strong suit.

My sister. My adorable, precocious, mini-me sister, who sat me down right before I left, comfortingly placed a tiny hand on my shoulder, and explained in all earnest sincerity that if she gets married before I do, I can be her maid of honor.

Dollface.

This from the child that thinks “a good pedicure” is a critical step to readying yourself for international travel.

No idea where she got that one.

The child that without batting an eye, matter-of-factly told the sixth grade boy that professed his undying love for her back in September, to try again in high school.

No idea where that one came from, either.

And this would be the same little girl whose purse is always stuffed to the brim, because you never know when you’re going to need neon glitter glue, a Hello Kitty notepad and no less than eight dollars in nickels.

A girl’s got to be prepared.

My gift was a book that she’d carefully written, illustrated and stapled together. Note the cover-“think pink” is a reference to a song in a fabulous Audrey Hepburn/Fred Astaire movie called Funny Face. While I shudder to think of what Emily has learned about international travel from me, I must say that I have had a marvelous influence on her movie repertoire. [Though I have yet to succeed in convincing her that Gregory Peck is cuter than the Jonas Brothers. I’m good, but I’m not a miracle worker.]

The book goes something like this…

Even though our hair doesn’t always stay in place [Oh, don’t worry. There was a picture of me with crazy, curly hair-presumably to clear up any confusion for those unlucky readers that haven’t seen me first thing when I roll out of bed. Serendipity can be unkind.]

Even though we can and will be picky… [A girl’s got to have standards, after all.]

Even though we may not be able to find something to wear [Illustrated by hangers holding both a ball gown and a t-shirt. I imagine that she was going for a sort of “Ladies who lunch” vibe.]

Even though we may get bord as heck…[I’m maintaining the original spelling to preserve the authenticity of the book.]

Even though we may travel away from each other [She drew a globe. Sniff sniff. Sob. Wail!]

Even though we may be too busy to be with each other…[illustrated by a blank “To Do” list.]

And even though we may fight…[I confess, I did once steal her glitter glue.]

Your [authenticity!] still my awesome, lovely big sister and I’m your little sister

 

…and I LOVE YOU!

 

Happy B-Day Ashley! I love you so, so, so, so, so much! I hope your wishes come true!


Love,

Emily

I love her so, so, so, so, so much too. When it comes to love, go big or go home.

Even when your hair doesn’t always stay in place.

Comments

  1. Cindy Peterson says:

    This made me cry. She adores you and I adore you too.

  2. I had no idea Em was such a great artist!

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