Can I just say I really really love my sister.
Like really.
When we were younger we would tease each other, sometimes a little too harshly and our words would turn to fists and whipping towels, but the childish fights stopped when she went to college, and I began to miss them.
When she came back it was as if she was a completely different person, in the best way possible. She dropped the laziness, often picking up on my own and telling me to do my chores, but I didn't mind. She was kind of like a second mother, and she still is. She began to learn to cook, and on occasion would serve us warm meals with bread.
Now as I visit her, in a small apartment she shares with her husband, I'm glad I came here. In the two days I've been here I've already made many small memories that make me happy, such as driving through the green trees browsing Netflix on her phone, cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen while warm acoustic music plays in the room next to it, going to get snow cones in the heat of summer and noticing that all the candles in the house are without scent except for the one settled our parent's refurbished table that smells of basil.
Also her dog is a white and brown shitzu pup who smells like butterscotch and plays tug of war with me, what's not to love.
I mean seriously look at her little milk chocolate nose