A Week (or 7 days or 168 hours) with my Sister!

Day One: Arrival

Tried to unpack my stuff in my sister’s guest room, but no empty drawers. Immediately a flash of intense irritation swept over me – until I realized my guest room sported no empty drawers either.

I very patiently began teaching my sister Maj Jong.

Day Two:

Skipped my non-fat vanilla yogurt for breakfast and ate a calorie laden, pistachio flavored muffin instead – right along with my sister.

I patiently continued teaching my sister Maj Jong.

The day was rather uneventful unless you count:

My sister’s favorite pizza place misplacing our dinner order.

Running around looking for the diamond necklace that fell off my sister’s neck.

Frantically hunting for my brother-in-law’s ear pods that had miraculously disappeared on his dog walking soiree.

And my missing list of toiletries that I needed to buy at Walgreens.

We discussed our medical issues in great detail

Ate more muffins

And went to bed early in a self-induced food coma.

Day Three:

My sister introduced me to country folk singer Miranda Lambert.

And we listened to her song “The House That Built Me”.

And cried.

And then we started on my niece’s home-baked apple cake.

I continued teaching my sister Maj Jong.

We were interrupted intermittently by Amazon delivering numerous boxes in all sorts of provocative shapes and sizes – boxes that did not live up to their exterior potential, however:

Lotion for restless leg syndrome

Eye cream for crow’s feet

Shoe inserts for fallen arches

Day Four: 

I continued to find stimulating reading material in various spots in my sister’s family room:

We went through old pictures.

And the tears flowed.

When we saw what we looked like years ago:

(As opposed to today)

We boo-hooed even more.

Then, I very pleasantly joked with my sister about perhaps considering taking a break from the Maj Jong lessons.

She was clearly offended.

Day Five:

After serious and prolonged deliberation, coupled with a liberal dose of rationalization, my sister and I decided we really weren’t too old to wear our hair in pony tails, held up with scrunchies.

We decided that our elderly relatives – who were 65 and 72 respectively in the picture below – should probably pass on the pony tails though – somehow they don’t look the type.

Not like us. Tee Hee.

In an effort to divert her from Maj, I off-handedly complimented my sister on her superbly organized kitchen drawers:

She still insisted the Maj Jong lessons continue.

Day Six:

At that point, our female duo was oozing an excess of estrogen. My brother- in-law retreated to his man cave – the media room on the second floor – to watch whatever sports were on. We haven’t seen him since.

Day Seven:

So weird – the Maj Jong cards are missing. Guess we can’t continue our Maj Jong lessons.

As I was packing to go home, four realizations hit me:

I hadn’t had to brew coffee for my early morning cup.

I didn’t have to shop for the groceries I had eaten.

And I didn’t have to cook the meals I did partake in.

And at breakfast, lunch and dinner, my sister had kept me well supplied with salt from her elegant salt dispenser – without me even prodding her to produce it.

Maybe I should just stay here permanently – living the life of ease – with my brother-in-law meal planning and food shopping and my sister anticipating my every need. (I just have to check with my brother-in-law, who has yet to emerge from his man cave.)

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Iris Ruth Pastor