Thoughts on a little big sister.
I remember when you would make me play barbies with you.
I would be the dog(a sheep dog with real hair)and I would loyally fallow you and Barbie through dinner, parties, Ken dates, and even being left alone in the huge "Barbie mansion" waiting by the door till you came home.
Then you would say that the dog died. Barbie would mourn and I would sit back and watch you till you were done, as "advised" by you.
Singing Phantom of the Opera at the tops of our lungs. Jumping on the tramp, Rob bouncing us till we were speechless and screaming without sound.
Watching you recover from a car accident involving our red 94 Toyota Corolla, and a 30 point buck. I never knew that singing opera could be so therapeutic.
Oh dear chicken-bones.
I remember the day you were engaged. Well it was more like night. You came and jumped on me screaming you were going to get married. I bawled like a baby at your wedding.
When you listened to Vivia La Vida and cried your eyes out missing me.
Reading the experiences of your life, wishing I could hear you laugh.
Getting phone calls about crazy old women with no teeth and crazy hair, talking to themselves.
Laughing so hard you almost pee your pants.
Re-hashing pretty much every movie we've seen in our life times.
My little big sister.
I love you.