It’s my little/only sister’s birthday today which is always a great opportunity for her to remind me that I am older (and much grayer) than she. Though only by eighteen months.
As I watch my boys interact with each other, I inevitably think back to when she and I were younger and equally ‘spirited’. The similarities are uncanny….though my boys are blonde and we were always brunette.
She bit me often – to exact revenge or get something she wanted. The Hen has also decided his jaws speak much louder than words. If big brother, really anyone, is out of line in any way, he opens up and clamps down – a man of few words.
G and I apparently share the same childhood haircut if this picture is any indication. (A boy in a blue and white dress -thanks mom!) And the Hen and my sister (at that age) have the same apple cheeks and uncooperative hair.
I laughed as I watched my boys sitting in the kitchen today; taking turns squawking at each other and slapping one another’s hands in a wordless game of pat-a-cake.
Which is what having a sibling is all about, I suppose: someone to do nothing with. A person who bears (eye)witness to the ridiculousness that is, or was, your parents. Someone who will forever remember your clown perms in high school; when you taped up your nose to look like a pig; your unabashed love of Whitney Houston and your top secret love of Barbra Streisand’s Yentl soundtrack.
Happy Birthday Nilla!
You are the wind beneath my wings.