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I'm Not a Baby! My

I'm Not a Baby!

My sister is staying with us. I possess strong love feelings for her. Oh yes I do. No, I do!
BUT, I'm feeling a little over-coddled.

She's great. She's really great. She says stuff like, "What are you doing, punk rocker?"
and "You smell like poo."
When I ask her what she wants for dinner, she replies, "A big black dog."
You know, sensible answers that really give me a line on what she's feeling.

Anyway, my sis is sweet as pie. She's a nanny, so she likes to nurture things, like babies.
And she brings her job home.
So that means good things like there's always fruit in the basket, and color-coded water glasses.

It also means things like if you're really tired and laying in bed at 10:30AM on a Saturday and haven't eaten yet and don't want to just now and your hair is wet from the shower and plastered against your forehead and you have no intention of drying it at the moment and you just want to be a troll, she will bust into your room and insist on making you a bowl of bananas and raspberries and yes! yes! you have to eat now! and you'll get sick and come on! come on! let me fix you something and why are you wearing a towel and are you OK? are you sure I can't make you something? I can sprinkle a little Prozac on the berries and ok then, how about on the bananas? what's wrong? what's wrong? and can I help you roll over? here, have some fruit.

Sometimes it gets to be overmuch, especially because I felt like pancakes.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on July 27, 2002 4:03 PM.

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