Sibling Memories, Pt 3

When my dad was a little boy, he often told people he would have thirteen little girls.  Little did he know they would all be rolled up into a tiny little ball and named Lauren.
I hated Lauren when we were young.  She was cute.  And I mean she was goldurn stinkin' cute.  I never was.  She had gorgeous long hair and looked amazing in those little frilly Sunday dresses.  I never did.  And she got everything.  You remember Cabbage Patch dolls?  She had two.  Me?  None.  Doesn't matter that I was too old to play with dolls, she got two. When we did home videos, she was the star, even when it was my turn.   
She was a Houdini growing up, and simply couldn't stay still.  But even when she climbed out of her crib and fell on the radiator, she was cute.  When she ate Dad's black licorice and had the juice all over her face, she was still cute.  Incredibly wrong for liking that nasty stuff, but the Licorice Monster was cute. The only time she wasn't cute was when we had to share a water bed and kicked each other.  And that is as far as I will concede on the kicking in bed front, Miss L.
I hate to admit it, but I am still a little jealous of her cuteness.  I have come to accept that she is the cute little kitty and I am the giraffe in the animal kingdom of our family, and that giraffes have some good qualities too, but man, there are days when I really wish the cuteness fairy had sprinkled just a little bit my way when she came and showered my little sis in cuteness.

After high school, Lauren suddenly became fun as well as cute.  Or more likely, I finally matured and realized she was a great sister and we had a lot in common.  We both miss European, especially German, Christmases.  Christmas in the States just doesn't compare. We are both chocoholics and love hot baths and reading.  We like spicy food, and are game to try just about anything once.  Shoes and purses call us by name and speak to us.
We did some pretty crazy stuff and still laugh about it.  There was the time I was driving after we had finally found some chocolate coins for Christmas.  The coins fell on the floor, and Lauren went after them, only to get stuck between my leg and the steering wheel.  Just a little awkward, and of course there was no shoulder, just two giggling girls. She could beat any boy in a belching contest with just one can of A&W root beer.  I'm also pretty sure she was the one who came up with the nickname for "Rainbow Brite", a guy I dated twice.
She grounds me.  I can't go longer than a week without talking to her on the phone. She still makes me laugh and giggle like we're about to do something silly and crazy again.  And I am sure we will.