Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Got Your Back

Today is my little sister's Birthday.  Today my sister turns the exact age I turned 3 years ago when I had that first glimmer of "feeling old."  It's freaking me out.

Our whole lives, people have assumed Crystal was the older sister.  Not because of looks, because of maturity and attitude and quite possibly fashion.  Crystal's always been put together, I've always been funky disheveled at best and sloppy fashion victim at worst.  She is currently a Vice-President business lady single mother of two.  I'm currently a freelance writer yoga freak with a dog who I have trouble controlling.  I can see why people think she's older.

Even when we were kids, Crystal always had my back.  I remember an argument I had with a little girl who lived down the street from us.  Things got nasty pretty fast.  We started name calling.  I called her mean, she called me dumb.  I said her dress was stupid, she said my hair was ugly and gross.  That's when I ran home and told my little sister.  I can tolerate a lot but talk shit about my hair and I'm busting out the big guns.

Crystal devised a plan to get the girl back.  We crept down the street clutching a bottle of Prell.  We rang her doorbell.  When she answered, we poured the Prell all over her hair and screamed in unison, "Your hair's nasty!"  It was awesome.

Another time a boy I went to Elementary school with kept ringing our doorbell and running away.  It was our first ding dong ditch and we failed to see the humor in it.  It was right after school before our parents got home so we were free to deal with it how we saw fit.  After the fourth time, we chased him down the street.  I held him down while Crystal Pistol kicked him in the butt.  We thought it was hilarious redemption.  The kid didn't talk to me again until late high school.  (I had smokes.  He wanted smokes.  I didn't bring up the butt kicking.)

There were other awesome team moments.  We always banded together to retaliate after anyone toilet papered our house.   When a certain house refused to buy Girl Scout cookies from me for the second year in a row, Pistol and I rode our bikes up and down their driveway blasting The Monkees from the pink jambox in my basket.  Every day for a month straight.  I'm not sure if they cared or noticed but we felt like we were giving it to them really good.  Togetherness! Team K & C!  Go!

Even though we're both officially old now, I still feel like that.  I know she has my back and I have hers.  I still brag about my little sis to anyone who will listen.  MY LITTLE SISTER COULD KICK YOUR LITTLE SISTER'S ASS!  You know, stuff like that.

But, she could, man.  She really could.

Happy Birthday, Pistol!