A giggle..I think

Not only does my Mom call me for a Honey Do list, she calls me about the latest gossip or a cool recipe that even I couldn’t mess up, but she calls me with giggles.
So Lori is all about being a grown up these days, she’s a woman in her own eyes. Even though she only hit the double digits this year.
First it was the little bra, I remember the day she decided she wanted one and just so happens I was with them as they shopped. I eased myself out to the nearest book store to hide while they took measurements and what not, I can’t imagine what they use to measure you for a bra and really don’t want to know.
A few months later the grumpies started with her, I couldn’t tease her or make her laugh without Lori biting my head off. That’s another reason why I’m grateful that Luke and Jacks were both boys, I would die or be killed being the middle kid of two girls. After that eventful day came about, she announce she was a woman and no one should mess with her, and yes Jess, technically she is but she is still my little baby sister until I say she’s not.
This week she decided that shaving under her arms would be cool; Mom says she has little peach fuzz there and nothing more. She told Lori it would be best to hold off on the shaving as long as she could but of course Little Miss Grown Up wouldn’t wait.
Mom bought her a safety razor like deal, I'm sure with some cutsie name. I suggested one of those that yanks the hair out by the roots, she wouldn’t be so hip to shave then. Anyway, she takes her bath and emerges out with a scowl on her face per Mom. “Mom, did you give me a fake razor?” Mom said she held back her giggles and asked her to show her the one she used, Lori didn’t remove the protective covering. Oh well, we all have to learn sometimes, I remember my first shaving experience, I looked like someone came after me with a hack saw, after that I ran to the electric razor and never looked back.
When I look at Lori I still see that chunky cheeked, blonde, curly haired kid running in circles making up songs to annoy us. When she would scream at the top of her lungs if a bug crawled in the house or someone (Jacks) played a trick on her. The summer that I had the joy of taking care of her while Mom was sick, I was able to rock her to sleep and read stories to her at night. Her little bubble head cracking my door open on Saturdays mornings wanting her “panny cakes” asking with a finger jabbed in her mouth. Teaching her how to surf and ride her bike and kick sand at bad boys if they were mean to her.
Now she’s taller, much taller and slim, long gone are those pinch able cheeks and the wild curly hair is flowing down her back. She makes her mind up on things and gives her opinion now more freely. If she’s hungry, she makes her own Pancakes….. I feel there will be no more of “color of the day dresses” and “monkey bar battles”. She has artwork of boy bands in her room instead of the Barbie collection.
My little sister, she’s a punk but I love her all the same.