Pickled chipotle carrot straws
Hot sauces
So, maybe I was a mean older sister. Scratch that. I was a mean older sister. Sometimes. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger? Right? Let’s take a stroll down memory lane, shall we? I made Zack play the dog in our imaginary games. I cried wolf more than 100 times because I was the only girl and in order to get my way with my brothers. All I had to say was, “I’m going to tell Mom/Dad you hit me. (Pause for dramatic effect). Maaaaaahhhhhmmmmm!” Then usually my brothers would give in and do what I wanted as long as I told my Mom/Dad, “Nevermind.” I told Zack this action figure of ET, which he was afraid of, came to life at night. Then I would sneak in and move it around. The closer to his bed the better. I would flush the toilet when my brothers were in the shower. I may or may not have popped my brother’s loose tooth out on purpose while giving him a double fishhook. I hid around corners at every chance waiting for a brother to come around then I would jump out and scare the bejezus out of him. Come …
Share:
0
31
0
Comments