Monday, July 31, 2006

Why I love my little sister

The day camp Meg works at was holding a camp off-site this week; Meg was scheduled to work it. Due to the distance – it would take her a good hour to get to camp in the morning – I invited her to stay with me. The off-site camp is only 20 minutes from my place.

Plus, it would be fun. Like when we were little and we pretended we were college roommates!

She followed me home after our soccer game last night. We stopped for dinner before coming back to my apartment and unloading a week’s worth of her belongings.

Sharing my bed with her was a little strange. Not that we’ve never slept in the same bed before (we did as recently as last weekend), I’m just not used to having someone in my bed.

I left before she got up this morning.

And called her from work to make sure she’d gotten to her job okay.

We talked on my way to my lesson with my skating coach. I listed off things she could do to pass the time until I got home. Go to the gym. Lay by the pool. Make the macaroni and cheese we’re going to have for dinner. Watch TV. Stop by the mall.

She called me back five minutes later.

The enrollments at the camp she was scheduled to work were down. They decided to bring her back to the main camp. She could go home.

I’m not going to lie: I was bummed.

But I told her to go straight home. It wasn’t worth waiting until I got back from my skating lesson.

When I did get back home, I made a beeline for my bedroom. And my bed was made! Meggie made my bed! Meggie never makes her bed! Meggie knows that I like when my bed is made!

Adorable.

And then, I went into the kitchen, and my macaroni and cheese was waiting for me!

How fucking cute is that? She made me my mac and cheese.

I wanted to cry.

And then I noticed that she’d taken half of the try home for herself, and I wanted to laugh.

And then I caught a glimpse of the sink, piled high with the dishes that she had no desire to do, and I nearly peed my pants.

That’s my little sister!

Sweet and thoughtful...to a point.

That point, it seems, is dirty dishes.

0 comments:

 
Blog Template by Delicious Design Studio