Today is my sister’s birthday, she is turning 15 years old. As you know, I am 34 so there’s not a whole lot that she and I have in common at this point and that’s probably a good thing because at her age I was smoking, drinking, using drugs and basically being a teenage jackass. I also had a mullet and regularly destroyed property for fun. I was what child psychologists call “A Dick”. I hope that my youngest sister is nothing like I was at 15.
Actually let me rephrase that: I hope that she is nothing like I was at 15 except when it comes to dating. For me at 15, dating was purely imaginary, to say nothing of things I can’t even mention in the same blog post as my baby sister. Of course my sister is better socially adjusted than I was at 15 (and 34) so I’m probably going to have to get used to the fact that boys like her. I don’t have to be happy about it though, at least not until she’s a little older.
Anyway, enough of my worrying, she’s a good kid. Happy Birthday K*.
*I’ve used her full name on this blog a dozen times before but all of the sudden I feel overly protective.