So, my baby sister is 27. Sheesh.
She is beautiful, she is sweet, she is kind, she is hardworking, she is addicted to Stargate. She makes me laugh, she makes me smile, she makes me crazy. I couldn't imagine my life without her.
And apparently I'm responsible for all her brain damage, since when she was born I thought she was one of my dolls, and would carry her around until our mother rescued her from having the oxygen to her brain cut off. Sorry, Neesee!