Cinnamon Girl


My sister is celebrating the anniversary of her twenty-ninth birthday today. I wish I could make her a ginormous red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and twenty-nine candles. Or that I could whisk her away for a girl's weekend of shopping and running and wine (white for her, red for me, natch).

Real life gets in the way, so instead I can just send her a gift. Send her good vibes. Call and sing to her until she begs me to stop. Send her the cards that I buy because we share a sick love of Hallmark and all cards, funny/sweet/twisted. Lift her up in my thoughts and prayers and tell her that I would have picked her as my best friend even if we weren't sisters.

I should also apologize for being such a bratty little sister. I harshed her gig more than any other little sister ever could have. I tagged along on sleepovers with her friends, I tagged along on her  dates. I followed her to her after school job, and probably jeopardized it with my endless questions. I blabbed her secrets, and my big mouth guaranteed that she spent a large amount of time grounded. I stole her earrings and may or may not have pilfered some of her clothing. Every time I was annoying the holy heck out of her, I was trying to be like her. I should have spent less time being Ramona the Pest and more time telling her I looked up to her. I cannot go back in time, but I can tell her now how much I look up to her and admire her. Every day.

Happy Birthday, sister of mine. You are loved and adored! XOXO


PS- Sorry your gift is late. You know me, pretty sure I was born late and will die late.


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