I grew up as the older sister in this scenario. At that age, both my built-in playmate or the source of aggravation, my sister was my only sibling. Similar in age difference to the girls in this picture, I reflect back on a family photo in which my sis and I were dressed in little cowgirl outfits. Adorable, hats and all. When asked to pose for a picture in those days, I frequently frowned or pouted to the dismay of my parents and grandparents. Why? No idea. And sadly, the photos exist to prove my surly disposition (more than a few). Fast forward to our teens, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between us; if one was being difficult the other was nearly angelic (and often I was the angelic one – really). Time after time. Again, I can’t explain it. Now well into our adult life, my sister lives just a few miles away. No more pictures in which we aren’t smiling and I couldn’t ask for a better sister.
But I’m still not wearing a cowgirl outfit, sorry.
