We have an inside joke about how she left etching on the wall of my mother's uterus, bits of wisdom and insight for me so I'd know what to expect when I emerged into the world. It's in moments like that, when we joke together and share a sense of humor other people can't quite get, that I love her beyond measure.
I love my sister because she's ridiculous like me, but she appears to not give one flying fuck what people think. She'll say what she thinks, do what she wants, dance whatever crazy weird dance emerges from her soul, and it's usually hilarious and entertaining for all around.
She's tiny and adorable and blonde (usually, currently brunette like me and sometimes a redhead) and beautiful, with a memorable face, kind of Kristen Bell-esque.
She's always entertaining, usually good-intentioned, sometimes sympathetic and often impossible. We don't always get along, I will admit that without pause, but when we do she's a great sister and friend, and I'm grateful to have her.
Even if she tried to steal my birthday Barbie that one time when I was four.
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