During the spring of 2001, my parents announced to me that I would soon have a little sister. Contrary to my parents’ expectations, I immediately informed them that this would not be happening. “Can’t you just give it to someone else?” I asked, pointing at my mother’s pregnant stomach while sipping apple juice out of my Clifford the Big Red Dog cup. “I have a very delicate sleep schedule that simply cannot be interfered with.” Despite my protests, my little sister Mable was born several months later.
When I first met her, she was red, rather smelly and had a grip stronger than that of Kevin Malone on a freshly-baked doughnut. This combination of characteristics was highly unsettling. Naturally, I had a temper-tantrum later that week to adequately express my displeasure. The temper tantrum, a tactic that is frequently employed by many of this year’s Republican candidates, was unsuccessful with my parents. Needless to say, my sister remained a member of our family.
Today, that smelly baby is my best friend in the entire world! Although I am a big bad undergraduate and no longer live with my sister, I watch eagerly from afar as she tackles high school and flawlessly conquers each task she takes on. She is my biggest hero, and I miss her every day.
Here are the most wonderful things about having a sister that I desperately miss in college.
1. Obsessing over excellent music with someone who is genetically inclined to like the same artists that I do.
If I have to listen to one more person tell me that Fetty Wap is “dope as hell,” I will vomit out of my butt. My sister has excellent music taste (i.e. she can list every song on the Beatles’ "White Album") and will listen to Motown and early '60s rock for hours with me.
2. Having a brutally honest fashion consultant.
Several months ago, I was browsing undergarments in Victoria’s Secret, and picked up a particularly bedazzled pair of panties. My sister glanced over, feigned shock and pretended to vomit into a decorative urn. I immediately put the panties down and exited the store.
3. Sharing a room with someone you can shamelessly fart in front of.
This one speaks for itself.
4. Horrible duets to critically acclaimed musicals in the car.
Once or twice a month, my sister would slyly pop the "Les Miserables" soundtrack into the CD player in our mom’s car and skip to “A Heart Full of Love.” She was Eponine. I was Cosette. No questions asked.
5. An abundance of clothing.
If you have a stylish sister, and she happens to be your size and a generous person, you basically have a second wardrobe to ransack during fashion emergencies. Unfortunately, I inherited what my mom refers to as "dwarf genes" and can no longer rock my sister's extra long size zero jeans. Sigh!
6. Late night pep talks.
Every once in a while, my sister and I would have long, pre-bedtime conversations about whatever was bothering us during a particular week. This became an excellent source of cost-free therapy that I unfortunately do not have now.
7. "House Hunters" marathons.
If you have not seen "House Hunters," please, please do so ASAP. Each episode includes any of the following characters: the sassy gay best friend with too many opinions, the real-estate-savvy single woman who doesn't need no man in her life, the preggo wife obsessed with baby proofing, the soon-to-be-dad who thinks “baby-proofing” is a situation in which babies are challenged to prove mathematical theorems and the muscular bachelor whose BMI is as low as his IQ. Best enjoyed with a sarcastic sister and lots of vanilla tea.
8. Scrabble tournaments.
In my family, Scrabble is not a game -- it is an Olympic event. When I play Scrabble with my sister, we wear professionally designed outfits and are filmed so that Chinese tourists can watch us online and learn about American culture. Just kidding! (Nonetheless, our Scrabble games are very intense and the winner is allowed to gloat for one entire week. No more, no less).
9. Thrift shopping (not the lame Macklemore kind).
No person on Earth thrifts like my sister. One time I saw her walk into a thrift shop and emerge 10 minutes later toting a Tory Burch jacket that she only paid $25 for. That is a skill.
10. Access to premium cosmetic products that my broke ass cannot afford.
As an undergraduate student, I rarely have money to spend on expensive things, especially pricey make-up. However, my sister has a glorious stock of Chanel mascara, Dior lip gloss and other goodies from Sephora that I get to peruse when I come home from school for break. As soon as break ends, the illusion is shattered and I continue to look like a mountain troll.
Despite all of these lovely things that I adore about my fabulous sister, my favorite is this: no matter where I am or what time of day it is, I know that in some little pocket of the world I have a best friend who will love me unconditionally and continue to support my endeavors, talk through my troubles and give me huge hugs. I love ya, sis. You do you.
