Today I Feel Old

Once upon a time, there was this cute little girl that lived in the great state of Texas. She was the youngest of three kids. Everyone loved her. She had the cutest, most squeezable cheeks. She was shy and charming. But the most endearing quality she possessed were these:

Curls.

(Sorry it’s blurry and shiny. I took a picture of a picture because I’m too lazy to figure out how to work the scanner.)

Look at those curls. Aren’t they precious? Everyone loved these curls. They’d hold them and play with them and every time someone new would meet this little girl, they’d greet her with an “awwwww.” She was darling. If things had continued on along this path, it’s very possible that she could have ruled the world with the power of her curls.

So this little girl went along her merry way, not really knowing how intoxicating her curls were. All she knew was that she’d hear people talking about her. “Oh my goodness. Look how adorable. Those curls are so precious, I could just cut them off and put them in my pocket!” And again. “Oh sweet girl! I wish I could cut those curls off and save them forever.”

I have to believe that these comments influenced this little girl to do the most awful thing she’d ever done in her life.

One day while watching something highly educational like Barney or a recording of her mother’s surgery, she settled into a big brown La-Z-Boy and did the unthinkable. She took a pair of child’s scissors, cut her beautiful curls, and stuffed them into a tin can that was intended to be a pencil cup. Maybe she was tired of being seen for her curls. Maybe she wanted to cut them off and save them like she’d heard so many people talk about. Maybe she just thought it would be fun.

Whatever the case, it proved to be a bad bad move. Those soft ringlets never grew back. And, what’s worse, she angered her hair so much that for the rest of her life, it had a mind of it’s own and did very spastic things.

That little girl in Texas was my sister. She’s now a big girl in Missouri. Today she turns 21. Twenty one. Today my sister is old. (By the way, that photo was not taken today. She was drinking that beer illegally. Just thought yall should know so you don’t think I’m off on another fancy cruise.)

Some of you have the pleasure of knowing my sister. She’s the best. The best of the best. She’s funny and friendly and smart and beautiful and insanely creative and talented. And she doesn’t have a love affair with the word “and” like her sister.

Look what she did.

See, I told you she was talented!

Happy birthday Lindsay! I wish I could spend time with you today but you are far away in a weird state. (I know what it’s like to have to be away from everyone on your birthday. It’s not fun.) Just know that we’re all thinking about you today and we love you so much. And we all feel old. I probably ought to go check on mom this afternoon… I’m not sure how well she’s responding to her baby girl being 21.

Since it’s Monday, I wouldn’t recommend a crazy night. Professors don’t care if it’s your birthday. So go buy a bottle of wine or champagne and have a nice dinner with your girls.

To everyone else. Wish my sister a Happy Birthday. Tell her how wonderful and beautiful she is.

I love you, Sister!