Today is my little sister’s birthday. I’ve written about her here. And here. Also here, and sort of here.

So anyone reading this has access to a lot of information about Liz and our relationship, and how I think she is exceptional. I don’t call my sister by her name a lot. It’s usually Leroy, a holdover from our childhood (Lee for short), and other times it’s Shishie, because that’s what Scarlett calls her. Even my nephew Jack, her own son, refers to her occasionally as Shishie. But the best development by far is that her husband now sometimes calls her Leroy. This is how you know that big sisters are in charge of everything.

Since it is Liz’s birthday, I’ll use her regular name for the rest of this post. Liz listens to me whine a lot. I don’t mean to, but sometimes when I’m around her, all of my frustration and anxiety come spilling out, interspersed with stories about bizarre things Scarlett has recently done, like spitting on the dog. I usually do all this while she’s helping me shower, because she’s trapped and she has to listen. Sometimes when I’m done whining, I ask my sister what’s going on in her life, because of course I do care.

My favorite mornings are when Liz brings over her homemade pumpkin muffins, and Liz, if you can’t tell that this is a hint then you’re not reading closely enough. Read More>