My sister called me yesterday, and judging by the wide vocal inflections in her voice mail, there was some news to be spread. Bubby thinks I'm hilarious. I can be funny at times, but she seriously thinks I am the funniest girl on the planet. I don't know what's wrong with her. Anyway, I called Bubby back and she breathlessly told me that she was expecting her third (count 'em, 3) child this fall. That will make me an aunt, four times over (my oldest sister, Bobo, has one daughter).
We are so different, my Bubby and I. I don't want children (never have. I have the maternial instinct of a cinderblock) and yesterday she told me, "It's ok--when you get older you may want them." Right about then is when I reminded her that she and I are only two years apart, and when she was my age she already had two kids. She got a little quieter about the issue after that. Foiled again! She has never accepted the notion of me not wanting kids, and that has become amusing. If I don't get married I think her head may explode.
Bubby is one of my closest friends and I love our relationship--there are things about her that only I understand and as we've gotten older we've only gotten closer. Here is my sister, 26 and about to have baby #3...just in time for her 6th wedding anniversary. Wow. We're at such different places in life it's a wonder we have things to talk about, but talk we do, at least once a week. I love her for that. Being the middle kid I'm the mediatior of the family, so that if one sibling has some potential news to share with the other four of us, I'm usually the first one told--my reaction is apparently a litmus test of sorts. Odd.
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