Tonight I had a long talk with my sister, and we sat laughing at memories, photos from family trips and old conversations we'd had. One of the funniest stories turned out to be when she had accidentally dropped a container of eyeshadow on my rug. Now, the eyeshadow was black powder, and the handmade rug was bought in Iran and had a cream-colored backdrop. It was like she had emptied the soot from an open fire place on it. She and her friend, both in the ages of 10-11, had tried to get the soot out in all the wrong ways, and by the time the shit hit the fan, they had pretty much made a worse mess out of it. I came home the day after and almost wrung her neck. Today, it's a hoot.
This memory also led to the conclusion that some things hadn't really changed. My sister told me, that when under pressure or stressed, she still becomes pretty much useless. I replied that it was good to know, and that in time of war, I might have to sacrifice her since she would be such a liability.
Sisterhood is obviously about honesty, humor and messing up. Who the Hell needs "ya-ya's" and Travelling Pants?
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Love you.
I love you too, dearest.
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