I was actually planning on doing some family posts coming up soon, but my older sister, Katie, ever on the ball, scooped up the opportunity preemptively and donated to the Mustache-a-thon, in which I promised any donators would receive their own post.
So here goes.
I dropped an f-bomb on Katie once. Once. And I never said I was sorry. I think I was in junior high/early high school. The hormones were raging. We were running out the door...and there was definitely something about shoes involved. I have no idea what Katie did to deserve it, but out it came nonetheless. And I've never forgotten it. There you have it, ladies and gentlemen: I managed to traumatize myself as a child.
So to Katie: I am sorry for throwing an f-bomb at you. And so haphazardly at that.
The thing is, and the reason Katie did not deserve such a jab is because she is 100% the most mature person you will ever meet, and is therefore above such childishness. When Katie got married straight out of college, I didn't blink. Now I'm like "JEEZ I'M ONLY 25 QUIT HARPING ON ME, PEOPLE." But for Katie, it was okay. Because she's mature and knowledgeable and always knows what she is doing. (Which I'm sure isn't technically true, but that's just the way it goes in my mind, like it or not.)
I do have proof of Katie's silly side, though. It's something that still makes me laugh to think about, and that is the way that Katie and I often chose to enter each others' bedrooms: butt first. It was more of a backwards, hopping/scooting way of entering a room. Really, it was quite dangerous if you didn't know who was in the room you were about to enter. And it was definitely Katie's invention. Don't ask me when it started. Just know that if you hear the staccato sound of feet rubbing on hardwood, expect an eyeful of jeans when you look up.
Despite such shenanigans, Katie is the oldest child of four and therefore the Leader of The Pack. She has always held herself to the highest standard--including an adorable story about her first day of Kindergarten: while walking to school, she stopped my mom abruptly:
"Mom, WAIT!! What's the capital of the United States?!"
"Oh, Honey, I'm sure they won't ask you that on your first day."
"BUT WHAT IF THEY DO?!"
"It's okay, I promise they won't."
"MOM! JUST TELL ME!!!!"
"...Washington DC."
"Okay. Washington DC. Washinton DC. Washington DC..."
I can safely tell you that on MY first day of Kindergarten, I was concerned about peeing my pants, missing my daytime stories, and little else. But that's how Katie always is: highly prepared. Before she had her baby in August, I think she actually read every book about children that existed in the world.
It's always been helpful to have someone boldly go where none of us had been before. Someone to test out the waters of all those scary things. Bike riding, junior high, boyfriends, prom dresses, college, weddings, kids...
I've never had a problem letting Katie skip on ahead of me. She's always been willing to turn back around, grab my hand, and show me how it's done.
1 comment:
Three things. 1. I do not remember the f-bomb at all ever. But you guys are very sensitive about swearing around me. 2. I really did read 20-30 books about pregnancy and infant care while pregnant. Crazy? Yes. But I enjoyed it. And 3. You are going to have to demonstrate this butt-first business, because it is a very foggy memory.
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