Twitching my way to Thanksgiving


First, and most importantly, someone stumbled upon my blog by googling the term “golden retriever pee.”

….

Not sure how to feel about that.

Secondly, and almost as important, my eye has been twitching. It began yesterday morning, pretty much the exact second I sat down behind my desk, stopped when I got home and worked out, then began again this morning when I got back in the office. Coincidence? I think not. I think this job is slowly taking its toll on me. *Twitch* *Twitch*

Ugh, seriously it won’t quit. Hopefully no one will notice…

This job might make me pick up smoking, only so I can have more breaks throughout the day. You don’t actually need to light them, right? I can just sort of stick it in between my lips and act cool… because I’ll look cool. I can’t afford smoking, I don’t know what I’m saying.

Thanksgiving is next week. It is also Sister Silent’s Sweet Sixteen. (Wow what an alliteration right there.) So while everyone else is eating their pumpkin pies, we’ll be eating birthday cake. It was going to be a Candy Land birthday cake but I have just been informed that has changed. Yeah… Don’t ask me, all Sister Silent would say is, “—.” I don’t like cake actually so I’ll probably eat pie. Yeah that’s right, I don’t like cake, so what?

Here was her inspiration, she saw it in the Taste of Home magazine Crazy Lady subscribes to. She gestured and grunted to say she wanted it for her birthday celebration:

Sister Silent is your typical teenage girl. She hates every thing that is living, and thinks every thing that is not is stupid. So she hates me and thinks this blog is stupid. There is an eight year gap between us. We shared a room together when she was very little, and that eight year gap was brutal. As I was trying to flex my maturing taste in interior design she was discovering her affection for kitties and Lisa Frank. The Lisa Frank has vanished but her love for cats has unfortunately stuck. She has a fat cat by the name of Missy. I hate her (the cat, not Sister Silent, I’m not 16 I don’t hate people) because she peed in my bed several times when we first got her. Every time I visit my parent’s home and see her I say, rather sardonically, “You’re still LIVING!” She sits and stares at me, much like Sister Silent does…

*Sister Silent probably just rolled her eyes at my nerdy word choice. “Sardonically? Whatever that means…”*

Sister Silent posts annoying country music videos on my Facebook wall. She communicates with me through text messages mostly. And when she does speak it is to mock something I have done or said. “Wow, Katelyn.” “Jeez, Katelyn.” “Really, Katelyn?” “Shut up Katelyn.” She hides in her room most of the time, always has her ear buds in, and is as stealthy as her dumb cat Missy. It is a little creepy actually how silent she can be. Always look over your shoulder when you’re in the same capacity as her, she sneaks up right behind you. On second thought, always look over your shoulder, you never know where she’s going to turn up.

Currently there is a poor driving instructor who has had to spend several hours in a car with Sister Silent… in awkward silence I’m sure. No music for her to drown out the world with, forced to make some kind of social interaction with someone older, I love it.

Part of her silence can be contributed to the fact that she had three older siblings who talked for her while growing up. She didn’t speak in public until she was four years old, and even then it wasn’t much. Now she has no idea how to socialize, thank goodness she is growing up in a generation that relies so heavily on social networks and texting for most of their communication needs. She is a heck of a typist. And her sense of humor is killer from what I see over Facebook.

Don’t tell but this is going to be her birthday present:

That is not Missy. Missy is black and white and evil.

I love my little sister. I always say she was the prettiest baby out of us four children. It was as if God said to my parents, “Well since you two are old and having another baby I’ll bless you with a pretty one. It’s the least I can do.” She would never admit it out loud (because she never speaks) but she secretly loves when I say that about her.

This Thanksgiving we will be thankful for Sister Silent. We will not be thankful for bed-wetting kitties.

*Twitch* *Twitch*

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