When I was 3 years and 9 months old, my baby brother, Bill, was born.
When Bill was 3 years and 9 months old, my baby sister, Traci, was born.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how my parents celebrated 3rd birthdays in our house.
Anyway, one of the advantages to being the oldest sister is conniving and scheming and plotting evil things to do to the younger siblings.
And yes, I'm flat-out admitting that I was an evil, conniving and scheming older sister.
When I was younger, of course. Now, I'm nothing but a perfect and delightful angel.
Way back when, I loved nothing more than to find the most awful, foul-tasting foods and feed them to my brother, all the while smiling and cooing, "Now, try this...it's going to taste WONDERFUL..."
...as I fed him a tablespoon of vanilla extract...or flour...or cocoa powder. Yum.
He would dutifully and trustingly take a bite, and to see the resulting look of pure horror on his face would be pure awesomeness, in an evil, big-sister way, of course.
So, imagine my delight on Sunday at my birthday party when my baby sister, Traci, gave me this card, which not only captured my Red Cross spirit, but also captured the big sister persuading the younger sibling that everything will just be better, after they eat a little dirt:
The inside of the card said simply, "Ahhhh....memories."
What a perfect card, huh?!
Strangely enough, my siblings have never learned to trust me when it comes to me saying, "Try this - it's SO good!"
I don't get it.