Happy Birthday, Sister! (Her b-day is really the 9th but I've got time now to write this)

It started with me holding up doll clothes to Mom's protruding stomach.
Then Tim poked you with a safety pin while changing your cloth diaper.
Then I pushed you down in your crib and when asked by Mom and Dad what happened to you I told them I don't know.
Endless days of playing 'house' and playing at the Piper's house.
Our big move to small town Council.
The 'Golden Gate' bridge in our backyard.
What? I stole your friend, Sharla?
Living in a one room shack for a month.
Trekking on over to Washington into a two bedroom apartment.
"It's your turn to pick up dog poop!" "No, it's your turn!" screamed both of us.
Beautiful Oregon. An even tinier apartment.
Lice. Yuck. Sucked (heh, heh - literally and physically).
Our own house! Our own bedrooms - finally!
Now you know why I was acting crazy in the bedroom?
Birthday parties. Sleepovers. Fights. Hugs.
Goodbye. You're off to Montana while I stay and room with Jill for a few months.
I'm in love. You're in hell.
I'm a Beaver. You're a party girl.
"Problem, Jim?" (I always had issues with people's breaths)
I'm literally on my own in an apartment.
You come to live with me. Thus, I become the ultimate sucker.
You move on and I move on.
We marry.
We mature.
We forgive.
We love.


I can't believe I'm 33 and you're 28!
Happy Birthday! I love you!