I have three. (Six - almost - when I include my lovely in-law-ed sisters. Seven counting a beloved Summer Sister, who would also be able to finish that song.)
I count myself one lucky duck in the sister department. Growing up in a family with one thousand girls means that if you can't find your own you can always find someone else's:
- clean clothes
- matched socks
- ponytail holder
- hair brush
- bobby pins
- swim suit
It was always better to ask forgiveness than permission. (Permission was never granted.)
Now that we are grown, I always have someone I can call when I need:
- ideas for dinner
- help with parenting
- instructions for dealing with sick kids
- maternity clothes
- baby clothes
- big kid clothes
- my clothes
- home decor
They all get my inside jokes. We often say the same exact weirdo thing at the same exact weirdo time. Heallow. There are three people on this planet with my same phone voice. Three that can be my exact same happy or sad when I am happy or sad. Three other people that know you are only supposed to give your parents presents that make them cry.
They know that when you are on the phone with them and they say, "Have you talked to J?" They must also say, "She's not pregnant." Unless she is pregnant. (Which she is not. And neither am I --in case you were wondering. Dad.) They let the sister with the news be the one to deliver the news...except for that one time I told H's friend Erin that H was expecting....but she looked the news out of me! And I told her she had to act surprised...which she did...and no one would have known...but I told on myself...and I never will make that mistake again! Because news that isn't mine isn't mine to share. Sisters know this rule.
They know all the rules.
And, they would love to go to the blind school and just see. :)
I love my sisters.