Younger Sisters

HH and I invited my little sister to go out with us for supper tonight. Mary’s twelve years younger than I am, and that made it wonderful for me. I was getting tired of dolls and then my mom had a baby. Woohoo! Even better! A living, breathing something to play with.

I’m not sure why, but my mom was getting older, so when Mary cried, I couldn’t STAND it if Mom ignored her. My sister or I…okay, mostly me….went and picked her up even when our mom forbade it. “You’ll spoil her.” And we did.

When Mary got older, when she had a nightmare, she came to my room and crawled into my tiny twin bed with me. I’d wake up with my nose pressed against the wall and Mary smashed against me. Not so comfortable. And I’d take her back to her room and sit with her until she fell back to sleep. I told her Greek myths for bedtime stories every night.

And then I started college and started dating more than before. And I met John. He was smart. He brought her little presents, took her out for ice cream before our dates. And the time came that when some other guy came to our door, Mary would greet him and say, “Go away. I like John more.” And I still liked the little brat.

When John and I bought our house, he was still in the army, so Mary spent the night on sleeping bags in the living room with me, and we had tea parties. When John and I got married, she’d spend weekends with us. When I taught school, she’d come to my classroom on Friday afternoons and help me grade papers on Saturday mornings. What can I say? She’s my little sister, and I still think she’s wonderful.

Karnie doesn’t have a little sister, but she falls head over heels for Matt’s two kids–Jackson and Chelsea. And it’s mutual. Their mom left them when they were young, and they’ve been craving a mother figure in their lives. It’s a mutual admiration society. And it’s fun to write about. I’m finally a quarter of the way through this book. I’m enjoying it. I hope the rest makes me as happy as the first fourth.

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