My sister, Rusty, turns 37 today. Everyone loves my sister. She can hold a conversation with the wall. Something thought of on a whim takes on the highest priority. She can use the word “Dude” to convey 47 meanings based on her tone of voice. She is kind, generous, friendly and funny but talks like she is 10 feet tall and bulletproof. She gives everyone a nickname – my husband is Steve-o, I am Mitchatelli, Dad is Big Daddy, her son is Big Guy, her husband is Mikey. She doesn’t waste time feeling sorry for herself – when something gets her down she bounces back from it more quickly than anyone else I know. She enjoys life. Few people are able to be their genuine selves all of the time but she is – no punches pulled. Can’t tell what she thinks about something? Ask her – she’ll tell you straight up. I love that about her. She is one of those people who can walk into a room of strangers and leave with a dozen new friends. I’ve always envied that. Happy Birthday Rus! I love you. In honor of her, I will share a couple stories she loves to tell people from when we were kids.

My nephew is on the middle school golf team so my sister was at the golf course last week to watch him play. When we were kids, we would sled ride at the golf course. She reminded me of my sledding accident. You remember those pieces of plastic that you bent up in front and stuck your hand through the cut-out “handle”? You absolutely can’t steer a piece of plastic. I ran straight into a tree on my way down the hill – ended up straddling the tree and hitting my forehead on it. Yep. I was graceful even then.

I did NOT stick a lima bean up your nose when you were sleeping. (She claims I did and it went really far up and she couldn’t get it out.) I would remember something that funny!

I didn’t really want the little girl to fall. Rusty and I were sitting on the front porch watching the little girls from next door play. One part of the sidewalk was really warped from a large tree root and it tented up. This little girl (probably 5…I was about 13) was running up and down the sidewalk. Trying to be funny, I said “I’d laugh if she fell.” Well as I’ve learned, karma is a bitch. That night, Rusty and I were going somewhere (probably sneaking out of the house) and I fell right in that spot. Rusty still thinks it is hilarious.

Spam still sucks. Dad took us camping for a week at Kelly’s Island when we were kids. Dad took Rusty with him to the grocery store to shop for the trip. Rusty assured him that we all LOVED Spam. So he bought enough Spam to feed Rusty, Kelly and I for a week. Only problem was that Rusty was the only one of us who liked it. Kelly and I barely ate all week.

I can’t help that I cough loudly when I have a cold. On that same camping trip, I caught a bad cold. My cough was apparently bothersome to Rusty so she kicked me out of the tent and made me sleep outside in a lawn chair by the fire. (Cough was like that before the next item.)

Thanks for outing me as a fellow smoker – twice! She got caught stealing a cigarette from her mom. She had tucked it into her bra and it fell out on to her mom’s foot. The first thing out of her mouth? “Michelle smokes too!” I managed to sort of convince my dad that she was just trying to get me in trouble. Then, years later, she is in the hospital right after giving birth to her son and says to me, in front of Dad, “Hey Michelle do you have your smokes on you? Let’s go smoke in the bathroom.” I was a senior in college so I was an adult…but still I didn’t want my parents to know I smoked. She thought it was a hoot.

Finally, it was totally your idea to unwrap and re-wrap our gifts that year that we got stereos. Was too. Was. Was infinity. Dad – she’s touching me!