But that pop culture reference was really just an attempt to be clever* as I pay homage to MY sister, who you all know and love as Sister--or, more recently, Aunt--Zoe. For today is her birthday.
*Except, I just realized that I used the EXACT SAME title for last year's birthday blog post. So... let's agree that next year's post will be "Sister Act," and will feature ill-advised parody gospel lyrics, okay? Whoopi's excited:
|Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey girl. Hey.|
I have loved her ever since I (sort of) watched her being born 26 years ago.
|I made this exact same face when I was in labor with S. I call it "Nermyl gets an enema."|
|My dad is wearing a shirt that says, "Midwifery is blooming." You are not at all surprised.|
Top 10 Reasons My Sister Is the Best
- As a toddler, she called McDonald's "E-I-O." Because she was a BABY GENIUS.
- Once when I was a teenager, we got in a fight and I yelled "Fuck you!" at her, because I am classy, and she screwed up her little face and she shot back, "Do you even know what that means? That means sex you."
- She is the best in crisis situations. You have a bathtub filled with vomit, you skip the plumber and you call Zoe. Not that this has ever happened to me.
- She cannot have a pet because there are too many prescription medication pills and X-acto blades embedded in her floorboards. Her life is so much more exciting than mine.
- She has a much cooler tattoo than I do. It's on her ribcage in a place you will only see if you're in her autobiography. It's perfect. I'm jealous.
- In 26 years, I have never heard her sing, or seen her really dance. At this point I think she abstains as a point of pride. This is especially impressive seeing as the rest of the family will belt out a song with zero provocation, and dance to anything, even "My Humps" at some stranger's bat mitzvah.
- As a part-time nanny, she carries a stroller up and down subway steps in wedge-heeled boots about four times a day. The stroller, the toddler in it, and her giant purse full of Diet Pepsi and Pall Malls weigh as much as she does. So she is basically Superman.
- She sends me picture messages detailing how she fails at wearing shirts.
- She wears the tiniest pants you have ever seen. They are like the size of the overalls your old Sylvanian Families squirrel son wore before your dog licked all the fuzz off of his head and made him look like some plastic gingham road kill version of Terminator.
Also, honorable mention, she once dressed up for Halloween as a contestant on Toddlers & Tiaras.
I tell her that if she ever loses her shit and kills someone, THIS is the photo that will run on the cover of The New York Post. You know I'm right. There is a reason your Facebook photos need to be set to private.
LOVE YOU, BOO.
P.S. As a special birthday present to Zoe and personal favor to me, can you please Ask Sister Zoe some shit? Her advice will seriously blow your mind.