“Wait, so a day later, you’d be called May?!”

I think these days I'm the tanner one, though.

I told her my mother adopted her from her original birth-mother–a warty, green witch who mixed barfous concoctions in a giant steamy cauldron for dinner.

I only played boardgames with her if she could set it up on my 60-second count-down.

I opened her birthday presents and stole her friends during her birthday parties. And when she vented about it in her diary, I made sure to give my personal anecdotes next to her text.

I had her escort me around everywhere as soon as she got her license so I could sleep. Which also automatically means I made her late for high school everyday (at least for the days she didn’t let me convince her to cut).

I made her econ teacher hate her because when he had me, he hated me. Because I accidentally stole a textbook and was never awake during class, but this isn’t about me right now, is it?

One day, she suddenly had to duck really low to see me eye-to-eye.

She is my little sister who ain’t too little anymore.

And it’s April 30th, and April is twenty-one! I love you, Apes.

(You can still punk 21-year old little sisters around though, right? What’s in a number?!)

I also make her pose for me while I test out her camera in the kitchen.