I’ve decided to dedicate this blog post to my sister, without whom I would not be the claustrophobic girl I am today.
My sister and I have always had a special bond. She suffers from extreme middle child syndrome, but we all love her anyway. You see, I’m the youngest child by quite a few years, so my sister was once the coveted baby. When I stole the limelight, all hell broke loose.
Well, not really. But there was a lot of crying going on when the house 3-year-old wrecked her room. I don’t remember a thing.
Over the years my sister taught me many valuable lessons, from “don’t touch my stuff” to “I told you not to touch my stuff” to “DAD SHE TOUCHED MY STUFF!” Again, I don’t remember a thing.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way. She really was a wonderful big sister, and even though I’m still waiting on my high school graduation cookbook (I graduated college a year ago), I can count on her for anything. I just try not to call when the babies are asleep, because then I can count on crying, and I’m not sure who it’s from.
So sister, I want to wish you a happy birthday, and know that I do love you dearly, even if I’m a punk about showing it. I hope you have a fabulous day!
Consequently after writing this, I’ve never been more grateful to live far from home. ;)
Also, this is always good creepy fun!