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“Yes, but where are the wheels?”

My sister is visiting us in Mexico. After 23 years she is still a bit of a mystery to me. I was 5 when Christine was born and none too thrilled with the new toy my parents brought home. I wasn’t a fan. Not for a while anyway. She smelled like butter for some reason and wasn’t a very good conversationalist. My second grade teacher Mrs Verzier was concerned enough about all the “send back baby sister to wherever she came from” stories to call my mom in for a conference. But that was ages ago! These days we are closer and since she’s been doing to the college grad shuffle for almost a year now and needed a bit of shaking up Malcolm and I invited her to spend some weeks after the wedding living with us and figuring some shit out. She doesn’t mind sleeping on the futon, or being awoken by the dogs licking her face. Her likes seem to include sleeping, sunning, candy and musical theater. We are happy to have her here, despite the sitcom-ish impact on our once romantic Mexican adventure.

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