« And the twinkies are... | Main | what goes up... »

You Say It's Your Birthday

I'm feeling much better today - in fact, I felt better once I stopped taking the Vicodin. That was making me sicker than the pain from the extraction.

We have a very busy day today - guitar lessons, Little League game, sister's birthday. And I feel bad, but I'm just going to repeat my birthday post to her from last year, instead of writing a new one, because we're running kind of late this morning and guitar lessons wait for no one!

Today is my sister's birthday [this sister being the mother of the cutest nephew/pirate in the world]. She is my middle sister, and she comes with all the myriad sociopathic personality traits that befit the middle child of any family. We love her anyhow.

Anyone with siblings will find this familiar: We fought like cats and dogs when we were younger. We hated each other. She resented that I was older than her, I resented that I had to drag her around everywhere I went. Our parents would alway say to us "Some day you guys are going to be best friends." And we would laugh. And sneer. As if.

So here we are, adults and mothers, both middle aged and presumably mature and our parents' prediction has come true. We are best friends. I don't know what I would do without her.

Happy birthday, Jo. You'll always be younger than me, but people will always think you are older.

[Nelson] Ha-Ha! [/Nelson]

P.S. It also happens to be the birthday of one of the sexiest bloggers ever, Hubris.

TrackBack

Listed below are links to weblogs that reference You Say It's Your Birthday:

» Vitamines And Nutrition from Vitamines And Nutrition
To be healthy Vitamines And Nutrition [Read More]

Comments

But they wouldn't if you'd act your age, not your shoe size. Happy birthday to your obviously more mature sister.

I had the same deal with my older brother. We fought through our teens like cats and dogs until he left home and moved to Australia for the year. I grew to miss him and flew down for a summer to live in Melbourne. We got on great and he's since moved back to England. Today we're close friends, and I worry that he's moving down south to attend Oxford University in September.

Sometimes all it takes is for one of you to get the hell out of the parental home long enough to stop the pointless bickering over who gets to hold the remote.

Try asprin....

I'm glad to hear you are feeling better. Getting teeth pulled is no fun at all.