My sister and I have a strange relationship.
Unlike most older sisters, I torture her.
She tolerates me.
Going out to dinner, my night isn’t complete until I’ve managed to make her blush furiously because I’m dancing at the dinner table or singing off-key at the top of my lungs. I consider it a complete success when she buries her face in her purse or hides behind her jacket to avoid recognition from any of her fellow grad students. If I manage to make her flee the scene, then I have achieved utter greatness worthy of a gold medal or Nobel prize.
And now, as her maid of honor, I’ll have dozens of ways to embarrass her.
But I won’t embarrass her. I’ll joke about hiring rodeo clowns to walk her down the aisle and serving up McDonald’s for the wedding dinner, but I’ll find her the best caterer in town and a cake that will inspire a million memories. I’ll be with her when she finds the dress to marry the man of her dreams and stand by her side as she turns from my kid sister into a wife and eventually, a mother.
Because as long as I keep laughing, there won’t be time for the tears to fall. With every happy change there’s always a bittersweet lining. It’s hard for me to swallow that my little sister is growing up, and that we’re actually becoming the adults who will have children and such.
Maybe not so much in my case, however.
Congratulations, Danielle. May you have a lifetime of joy and love with your future husband.
Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! A new fun post tomorrow from the Queen herself and a grand book review Wednesday, with an Egg0-worthy recipe Thursday! And a brand new story Friday with a new painting! It’s busy here in the Pond!
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