This is a special posting for my poor sister
My parents have a hierarchical rank in their children.
There is the Holy Son. He of the two years older than me, that will literally no longer acknowledge my existence because we disagree on basic human tenants. I believe that all people have value and he believes that no one person will ever be as important as he.
Then there is the prodigal baby (my little sister) who is well aware of her on- again- off- again- favored status, and the understanding that her ranking in the acceptable file of my parents’ affection hinges on vital matters, such as whether or not the garbage men remembered to pick up the garbage that week or not. (Because things like that matter to our parents and really throw off the chi of the favored children ranking.)
Then there is me. On the parental popularity scale, I fall somewhere between a process server and a rock.
However, it does give my sister and I a lot to giggle about (the status and relative ranking of her on- again- off- again- status and where she falls vis a vie the garbage men). And once we get started, sometimes the giggling is hard to control.
What happens is that occasionally, I call my poor sister, full combustion giggling already underway, trying desperately to communicate. But while she can see on the caller ID that it is indeed her older sister calling, what she hears on her mobile is “hee hee hee HA HA he hee see? HA HA you? HA hee he hee hee you? HA he he hee he he CLICK”
This is usually repeated twice. Sometimes three times.
I try so hard, but I get the freaking giggles so hard that it just is impossible. And every time it gets worse, because after the first utterly failed phone call, she (of course) has already begun to get the giggles. So by the second phone call, she answers laughing. And it is straight down hill (via the hell in a handbasket express obviously) from there.
I cannot tell you how many times this exact scenario has repeatedly played itself out in our lives.
As a result, since I can no longer communicate with my poor baby sister - I am posting the picture and texting her to check my blog. She’ll know what to do now.
Little One: this is what I was trying to ask if you had seen.
