My Baby Sister

Since she was 3 and I was 10, she's been mine.  I tucked her in at night and taught her how to make french toast in the morning.  We made it through a not very lovely childhood together, and I remember holding her chubby little baby hands through way too many hard times.  I held her on my hip when she was too big and I was too little.  She lived with us for the first year or so that we were married.  For a while she was Ryan's baby sister and Griffen's big sister.  She is my Alisa Pizza, my baby girl.  She has always, always been a mess.  She has always, always been so stinkin' cute.  She, as most baby sisters do, has terrible taste in boyfriends, and wears too much eye makeup.   I love this little brat to pieces, more than she will ever know.  She is so bright, has tons of potential, the sweetest heart, a fierce temper and  more tattoos than I would like.  We spent the day together today.  We talked and played and took pictures, like we've always done.  And she's growing up, a little bit.  She's made some mistakes but she's learning.  We both are.    

One Comment to “My Baby Sister”

  1. You are so fierce, my Amber. And I love you – like I love my baby sisters and like you love yours.

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