I know, you can’t believe it, right? I posted on a Sunday. And you thought all I did on my Sabbath was sleep in, go to church, eat dinner with the fam. Well, NOT TODAY. Today, I had a good reason to get up early (ha, early for a Sunday)… breakfast at the little sister’s. Her fabulous roommies threw a birthday breakfast for her and even though I was a wee bit late (due to a very tardy bedtime watching the Gold medal Bball game last night), it was delish.
So here, for your reading pleasure, internet, is my ode to little sister, Mern. In the words of Gus-Gus: Happy Birfaday!
Somehow, our lives have revolved around soccer. Dad coached us when we were little and for some reason, you felt it NECESSARY to wear your plaid hat for soccer games. I’m not sure it matched our reversible Leopards Lair jerseys or not, but I suppose you weren’t planning on heading the ball much so by all means, wear your stylish little hat. It must have been EASIER than having Mom comb the tangles out of your hair. WE HATED THAT. Eventually, Mom bought some Aveda leave-in conditioner and life was a wee bit less painful for our delicate little scalps.
Before long, we started playing competition soccer and traveling to tournaments. Dad was mighty brave to drive a bunch of 6th and 7th grade girls to Boise. We managed to keep ourselves entertained in the car, pre-DVD player days. After every bathroom stop, we checked to see if anybody was a CUP yet. “Nope, still a YUP.” It was VERY IMPORTANT that we were Clear Urine People before playing many soccer games in one weekend. We also ate a lot of carrots. That didn’t turn out so well when Puck started to look the same color as her carrots and what were we supposed to do? I think I shut my eyes and prayed, “Please don’t vomit on ME.” Thanks, Puck, for catching all your spewed up carrots in your own hands. That was so thoughtful. And to top off our diet of lots of water and too many carrots: jolley ranchers. We would suck on them for a few minutes, then drop them out the back window of the van to see if they would bounce up and stick to cars. Things like that were REALLY FUNNY back then.
And today, Mern, you let me tag along with you for many soccer games. Sometimes we win the league, sometimes, we’re just glad we’re not on Mandy’s team. And if we added up all the money spent, perhaps you could give yourself a scholarship to PA school. You used to drive all the way down to Provo ONCE A WEEK, just to be the best girl on my indoor soccer team. SOMEBODY had to score some goals. After all these years of post-high-school soccer, what do we have to show for it? A friendship with Pepe, OF COURSE.
Ever since Dad made a comment at Thane’s wedding dinner about how he’s “good at marrying off boys,” we’ve become each other’s INSIGNIFICANT OTHER. In a family full of couples (except for lil’ brudder, Jamis), it’s the only way to cope. Or else, it is forced upon us because who else are we going to share a room/bed with on family vacations? Each year, we both say we’re going to get married before the next vacation, just so WE GET OUR OWN ROOM. (Well, that we would share with that special someone who we married for the sake of an improved vacation experience.) And in family pictures, when everybody stands next to their spouse, where do we stand? (Probably holding one of the nieces or nephews to help them smile AT the camera.)
We also traveled together as such, although back in the day, Sir Pee-A-Lot made us a trio instead of a couple. That led to a New Years in San Francisco where NOBODY AT THE PARTY actually counted down til midnight. How do you miss the countdown? We had to make up for that with PLENTY of shopping, taking pictures for an Asian friend we made (one, two, three, ha-rah!), riding the tro-rrey, and getting recruited to join the Not-Well Posse.
You helped me survive a week in Warsaw, IN. Although for part of the vacation, you’re the one that needed help when you came down with a case of bad Chinese food. Eventually, you got back on your feet so we could sit around in the living room, read books, ride teeter-totters, and eventually head up to Chicago for some SHOPPING.
Now… we’re friends
It’s true, life wasn’t always so picture perfect for us two sisters. Mom used to threaten us with sending me to therapy (probably with a REAL therapist and all), and you to live with your cousin in Oklahoma. I don’t blame you for being scared; I wouldn’t want to live in Tulsa either… THEY HAVE CHIGGERS.
Eventually, Mom learned that we would get along a little better if we didn’t share rooms and then, IF ONLY we could have had our own bathrooms, life would have been peachy. There was that time, once, though, that we decided to clean the bathroom TOGETHER. (I know, Mom is SHOCKED.) See all the old toothbrushes? We figured it was probably time to throw them away. And now, we clean our own bathrooms all alone because we don’t even live in the same zip code. (Good thing we still have soccer… and work.)
A toast to many more years filled with plenty of pictures in which NOBODY expects you to smile normal, Mern; that would be dull.