The Elder Princess

My big sister is 10 years older than I am. She has two kids, a husband and a cat. She’s a C or D cup (I’m barely a B). The only thing I have on her is about 3.25” of height.

Growing up, she was usually very nice to me—letting me tag along with her and her friends—despite my tendency to embarrass her. When I was about 2 or 3, I pooped on the living room floor when she had some boys over after school. At 4 or 5, I told the guy she was dating that my parents didn’t like him (which was the truth). I peed on one of her boyfriends who tickled me. I shushed the people behind us in the theater when she took me to see The Last Unicorn movie. And yet, she’d still take me with her to the mall and let me borrow her clothes and eat her rootbeer lipsmacker. (Okay, she didn’t like that last one, but I remember sneaking into her room to do it on several occasions in preschool. It was like chewy, waxy candy goodness.)

I think the reason she kept me around is similar to why a sculptor keeps a lump of ugly, brown clay in his studio. With enough work, it might eventually turn into something really cool. I’m pretty sure she thought if she molded me throughout my childhood, someday I’d be just like her.

The funny thing is, now that I’m a grown up (relatively speaking) I find myself molding her right back. I encourage her to travel, I talk to her about politics and environmental issues, I loan her books on positive thinking and meditation. We seem to have developed quite a symbiotic relationship. So much so, that on Sunday when we attended a bridal shower, we showed up with the same gift.

Why did we have the same gift? Well, Mrs. I’m A Busy Mom didn’t remember to take her gift off the bride’s registry, so when I looked online it showed up as having not been purchased. I called her a jackass and cursed at her as we drove to the shower, but by the end of it we were practically arm-in-arm, making fun of my mom, giggling hysterically.

I am leaving tomorrow to attend a wedding in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Unlike my trip to Minnesota, I’m not bringing a laptop. So my blog is running the risk of going dark for a few days…however…I have decided to give my sister the keys to the kingdom.

Yes bloggy friends, I handed over my username and password and have invited her to post whatever her heart desires while I’m away. I have no idea what she will say. She might reveal more embarrassing stories. She might write about the woes of running the PTA. She might bag on me for cussing her out on the way to the bridal shower.

I can tell you this, though: Whatever she writes will be very entertaining. The sense of humor I have today comes largely from her.