My Shelley

Yes, she is mine. I own her.

I love having sisters. I don't want to think about how my life would be different if I had brothers. Boys are icky.

Growing up we had our days were we really got along and played well, and of course we had our days that we didn't. It was completely normal sibling behaviour. Although, maybe being the youngest she got picked on and teased a little bit more than Carmen and I.

Some of my favourite memories of growing up with Shelley was when we wrapped her up like a mummy. We took a big white quilt, and then several ties from play housecoats, and tied her up in sections. It was quite darling. Then we leaned her up against the wall to try to take her picture, and for some twisted reason we still laugh at the panicked cry of, "I'm slipping" as she slowly started making her way down the wall completely unable to move any inch of her body. I don't think she remembers it as fondly as Carmen and I do.

Another wonderful thing Shelley loves, is to be loved. Lovied in fact. Shelley's seat was the middle seat in the car, with myself on her left and Carmen on her right. Periodically, especially on long trips, Carmen and I would look at eachother with a mischevious grin count to 3 and then hug her extremely tight and go "loovvveeeyyy". Somehow.. although she "felt" the love, she wasn't feeling the love. We still try to do it occaisonally as adults, but she can fight back a little more now.

In the last couple of years as we have been pregnant together and had our babies, we have grown even closer. We were able to spend more time together, and its a rare day that we dont talk to eachother. I love having a deep friendship with her, even though we are more than a little weird together. I am extremely thankful that we only live 5 min away - although farther than the 5 seconds it used to be, it could be a lot worse.

I love my lil sis.

And Shel - I'll grape you later.