Happy Birthday Laurie!

(Someone told me he was concerned that the steroids might be affecting me adversely. He asked that I NOT blog about body parts again, lol. So I promised I wouldn't.)

Today is my sister, Laurie's birthday. She mentioned last week that she would be turning 45. There is no way! I'm 45. Remember my 44th? I do, and I so now I am 45. When my sister and I were little, we were about the same size. People were always asking my mom if we were twins. I wanted to tell them, "we most certainly are not! I am almost 2 years older." But I never did. I was too shy. But maybe I was mistaken about the 2 years . Afterall, we are both 45, so we must have been twins.

A sister is a wonderful thing. A sister is better than a friend. A sister will tell you the way it is, even when you don't want to hear it. Back when I thought my hair was growing out with beautiful, natural blond highlights, it was my sister who screeched, "aaaah...your hair is completely gray!" I didn't believe her. But when I looked at pictures, sure enough. She was right. That was when I started coloring my hair.

Another time Laurie was in Denver. We were at my home, chattering away in the bathroom. We were giggling & gossiping while I applied makeup & fixed my hair. It felt like we were teenagers again, sharing the bathroom mirror, primping before we headed out for the night. Laurie loves to talk and between breaths, in a loud sucking in noise she gasped, "Joanne, you have a mustache!" As sisters sometimes do, I wanted to say, "yeah, but have you seen how big your hair is? Big hair isn't in anymore." But I didn't. That would have been childish. And I wasn't about to mention anything about big backsides. Afterall, we weren't 15. We were both like 35.

(Oops! Sorry Christopher. I know I promised I wouldn't talk body parts. Maybe I do have a problem.)

My sister is my friend & biggest cheerleader. She listens when I talk. She makes me laugh. I wish we could share a bathroom and laugh together more often. Happy Birthday Laurie! And I really don't believe you are 45, as that means I'm only 46 for a little bit longer. And I still don't believe I could be 46. Wish I was there to celebrate. I'd leave you a pillow present. I'm going to have to tell your boys all about pillow presents.