For a little over three years, Emily Jane went happily about her daily life. She lived in Newmarket, England - just outside Cambridge. She was the product of two doting parents and, as far as the lives of toddlers go, she was pretty much set.
When she found out she was getting a baby brother or sister, it really didn't phase her that much. Her only request was to have a black baby boy like the black next door neighbors just brought home. She didn't understand that it wasn't exactly possible since neither her mother or father were black. Her grandparents from the USA sent her a black baby doll to help with the situation. See? She really was set...she got whatever she wanted.
And then I was born. Eight pounds, fourteen ounces of squishy pink baby girl and a head full of dark brown hair. Not exactly what she wanted, but I would just have to do.
[circa 1985...can't you see the disappointment with my girly whiteness in her face?]
And so began the past 26 years of being a big sister.
During this time we have been best friends and bitter enemies. We've laughed more than we've cried. We've been each other's cheerleader and we've cut each other so deep, the way only sisters can. But we've managed to survive growing up together and our lives remain intertwined. So much so that rarely does an hour pass by when we aren't communicating in some way.
I know I'm not the baby sister she wanted. But I'm the one she got. And if I've learned one thing from our years together, it's that nobody is safe when she's around. You see, no matter how remotely involved she is in a situation, something absolutely ridiculously random, awkward, funny, or outrageous is bound to happen. So I feel it is only fair that I repay her for all the "dirt and dandelion soup" she fed me as a kid by sharing those situations with the world.
I hope you enjoy reading about my Life with Emzy.
Who is older and who is not
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