Hot cocoa, toasted marshmallows and sap

Being an only child was good. Too good!

It was also, apparently, too good to last.

I love my sisters. Even the one I grudge her trip to India for. A trip I didn't get to make with her. But I'm happy nonentheless. Happy she gets to be with the ones she loves, eat the things she missed, smell her favourite smells, laugh her laugh and be generally happy or miserable depending on what the moment compels her to be.

See up until now I've had my sisters tucked away in safe niches. Places where I knew they would be happy (if they let themselves be happy) and well looked after.

But now I've been shifted from the designation of honorary sister based in remote location and acting important from far far away to being in the middle of it.

The transition, I assure you, has not been entirely smooth.

Trouble, they say, comes in twos.

I think that statement is flawed. I think... that it should be troubleMAKERS come in twos.

The past few weeks of my life have resulted in
... loss of sleep from pointless conversations that go on into the wee hours of the morning
... unfogging the bathroom after two hour baths
... waking up in the morning to find a tangle of limbs on top of me
... accounting to the grandma possible causes for the disappearance of cookies
... covering up for tardiness
... arranging and rearranging bottles of shampoo/moisturizer/conditioner
... hiding objects in spite
... fighting
... hugging
and loads of giddy headed laughter

Yes, yes ... couldn't be better and all that...
thats what I was going to say too.