My sister was here this weekend. I love her. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have our differences of opinion every now and then. And it doesn’t mean we don’t say things every once in a while that come off as judgmental and therefore, hurtful.
For instance, the other day I spent a good ten minutes telling her how I’m totally more awesome, and reasonable, and intelligent, and socially and parentally responsible because I don’t text message.
Yeah, I’m a great sister like that.
Did I mention that messaging was her only means of communication with her husband who was 12 hours away and on complete vocal rest after his throat surgery? Yup. I’m super sympathetic and cool
That’s why I’m dedicating this passage from Part 2 Chapter 3 to my darling younger sibling. Please replace the word “Dolly” with “Stacy,” “Kitty” with “Christina,” and “Stiva’s unfaithfulness” with “texting.”
‘Dolly, dearest, I am so, so wretched!’ she pleaded in a whisper. And the sweet, tear-stained face hid itself in the folds of Dolly’s skirt.
As if tears were the necessary lubricant without which the mechanism of mutual confidence could not work successfully, after having had a cry the two sisters started talking not of what was uppermost in their minds, but of indifferent matters, and in so doing understood one another. Kitty knew that what she had said in a fit of anger about Stiva’s unfaithfulness and her sister’s humiliation had cut her poor sister to the quick, but that she was forgiven.
So, Stacy, what did you think about the last episode of Survivor?