My little sister, sister number two, turns 26 today. She quite possibly is one of the most hilarious individuals I know. As a kid, I remember her always making jokes, and as a result, always made friends lightening fast with her quick wit and silly antics. I don't remember a whole lot when Stephie was born (I mean I was just shy of turning four), but I do remember being told the day she was born that I was a big sister and this perplexed me. NOT because I wasn't excited to be a big sister (I most definitely was), but I was most concerned because I knew my birthday was just a few short days away and NOW her birthday was being celebrated first. So, I asked most perplexed, "Am I still going to be the big sister?" Because in my three-year-old reasoning, the big sister's birthday should be celebrated first, you know chronological order. Oh, the logic of a three-year-old.
Apparently my reasoning capacity did not improve much after turning four. One of the next memories I have of Stephie was accidentally (almost) poisoning her. I would guess she was almost one, and it had to be right around Christmastime because my parents were putting together a few gag gifts for our grandmothers upcoming milestone birthday (her birthday is Christmas Eve). One of the gag gifts involved a black cane in which they wrote with a hot pink paint pen, "This is the only cain you'll be raising." I was instantly attracted to the hot pink paint pen (still love the color pink), and I just had to get my hands on it. Once I had it illegally in my possession I took it in my room and proceeded to paint my eleven-month-old sisters lips with the paint pen. I thought she looked stunning and I proceeded to show my parents her new "make-over" compliments of yours truly. Apparently, painting your sister's lips with toxic paint is frowned upon in this establishment.