On this day, 17 years ago, I got her.

Hey, remember when you used to sleep in my bed and I would chuck your pillow across the room? You’d go retrieve it, climb back in bed, rest your pretty head down and I’d throw it again. I usually did it 18 or so times in a row. God, that was funny.

This entry is devoted to my little sister, B-Bob Farris (what…she was named after her grandfather). On this day, 17 years ago, I got her.

Dear B-Bob,

Around this time…


15 years ago, your body shook with laughter when I blew raspberries on your tummy. Dog and dad were interchangeable and you would say “Daddy poo?” for “Let’s go in the pool, Dad” and “Daddy’s a bum.” for “Someone give this dog a bone.”


13 years ago, you sat on my butt every time I lay on my stomach in front of the TV. You wanted to watch Cinderella everyday and you loved going down the carpeted basement stairs in your silky Care Bears sleeping bag.


11 years ago, you often perched on Papa’s lap to watch the Weather Channel with the focus of an 80-year-old. You picked out a little black cat and would only consider naming her feminine-sounding synonyms for black.


9 years ago, you still brushed your hair out and thought Dad’s farts were hysterical.

7 years ago, mom kicked us out of a restaurant for being too damn funny. We did a butt dance for fluffy lemon chiffon pie and got down on our knees to beg for mom’s forgiveness when she returned to the hotel room.


5 years ago, you thought Britney Spears was the shit. I was in Allentown and I missed you a lot.


3 years ago, you danced dances that actually looked good and played songs on the piano so beautifully that I thought the radio was on. You made me laugh every time I saw you. I started thinking of you as Lindsay, my friend and sister.


last year at your sweet 16, you walked to the front of the room and spoke with the humor and eloquence of an adult. You were changed! Old! Mature! But you wore a light blue dress with sparkles, like Cinderella, so I could cope.


Happy birthday, Lindsay.


Love,
Jessie