For some reason this morning I relayed the following ENTIRELY TRUE story to the BBE. He cried laughing.
Littlest Sis and I are about 6 years apart, so when I was in college, she was just starting high school. While in school, she developed her talents in competitive swimming – a sport that won her a full ride at Howard University later.
Anyhoo, in the summer, her coach had them up at 5 am every morning to swim. 5 am. 5-fricking-am. In the morning. Sometimes she’d get up, swim in the morning and be back home before I was even up to go to work. Since she was also in the marching band she sometimes had band practice over the summer too, and would have to go back for 4 hours practices in the afternoons. Compared to her, I felt like my 12-hour, 6-day work week at my summer theme park job was like vacationing in the Keys. It was nuts.
Her room was across the hall from mine, and I walked out in to the hall one summer morning and saw Little Sis, passed out on the floor, halfway in the hall, halfway in her room. She was half-dressed, as if she’d fallen asleep while putting her pants on. Naturally, it tugged at my heartstrings and I had to find out if she was okay.
I nudged her with my foot. “Hey, hey!” Groggily, she rolled over and spoke, without opening her eyes. “What?” “Do you realize you’re like, naked in the hallway? Why are you on the floor?”
Littlest Sis had apparently been getting dressed, became tired and decided to take a quick nap. On the floor halfway in the hall. With one leg in her pants. I urged her to at least nap under a blanket. With this parting advice, I left Little Sis in the hallway and went about my morning ritual.
30 minutes later I emerged from the bathroom, fully showered and dressed only to find Little Sis in the exact same position that I’d left her – only she’d pulled a small blanket off her bed and wrapped herself up like a fricking burrito.
It might be a good time not to point out that Littlest Sis was a little … klepto… but only when it came to my stuff and Middle Sis’s stuff. In this case, she’d wrapped herself in my old baby blanket that had been lovingly crocheted for me before I was even born. It was a lovely yellow and white blanket that my mother had put aside for me and I’d HOPED I’d pass on to my kids. Little Sis found the blanket one day and become unreasonably attached to it. At the age of 12. So by the time she was 16 (when this story took place) my lovely baby blanket was a sad mass of loose yellow and white yarn akin to bad scrambled eggs.
Again I nudged her with my foot. Sleepily, she awoke, cuddled snuggly in MY baby blanket. “What are you doing?!?” I asked, to which she responded by wrinkling up her face, eyes still half closed and said “why is it so HOT?!”
I sighed and just left her there. When I tried to remind her about it later, she swore that it never happened.
What the hell?!? This is my family, my rather odd, somewhat quirky yet altogether lovable family. The stories I tell about them are true and accurate. Every once in a while I share one or two with the BBE to give him an idea of what he’s getting into when he goes with me to meet them in two weeks… that’s right! The Sunburnt Peach and the BBE are taking a road trip!