Happy #27 Birthday to Lula Belle! So does anyone remember when Lindsay and I were little (and by "little," I mean that we played until we were 16 years old) and had our secret gesture for signaling to each other that we wanted to go downstairs to play Barbies? Well, you shouldn't because it was secret!
I remember one time that Lindsay and I got into a fight. I went outside to cool off. I was sitting on the picnic table that we once had out on the big lawn. Lindsay came out to talk to me (I doubt it was to apologize . . . we didn’t learn how to do that in our family). Anyway, I had been thinking that since Jeffrey was on his mission and used to occupy the basement room where we played Barbies, there was only one thing I could do to remedy the room-sharing situation I had with Lindsay. We were talking and in my most serious voice I said, “Lindsay, I’m moving out. I’m moving downstairs.” I could see the wheels turning in her head . . . and in agreement she said, “I’m coming with you.” So suddenly our fight was over and all was forgotten and we both moved out of our room with nice separate beds to move downstairs to sleep together on a couch that folded down.
So this is the way it usually was growing up with Lindsay. I had friends, she had friends, but none as good as the friends that we were. When I’d come home from college to visit, I had my pick of rooms to sleep in, but for some reason, Lindsay and I always ended up sleeping in the same room and in the same bed. What would I do without my Lindsay?
I also recall us making plans to have an adjoining hall between our homes when we grew up. Shhh . . . we haven’t told Keith and Elliot yet! Happy Birthday Sissy!
Happy #27 Birthday to Lula Belle! So does anyone remember when Lindsay and I were little (and by "little," I mean that we played until we were 16 years old) and had our secret gesture for signaling to each other that we wanted to go downstairs to play Barbies? Well, you shouldn't because it was secret!
I remember one time that Lindsay and I got into a fight. I went outside to cool off. I was sitting on the picnic table that we once had out on the big lawn. Lindsay came out to talk to me (I doubt it was to apologize . . . we didn’t learn how to do that in our family). Anyway, I had been thinking that since Jeffrey was on his mission and used to occupy the basement room where we played Barbies, there was only one thing I could do to remedy the room-sharing situation I had with Lindsay. We were talking and in my most serious voice I said, “Lindsay, I’m moving out. I’m moving downstairs.” I could see the wheels turning in her head . . . and in agreement she said, “I’m coming with you.” So suddenly our fight was over and all was forgotten and we both moved out of our room with nice separate beds to move downstairs to sleep together on a couch that folded down.
So this is the way it usually was growing up with Lindsay. I had friends, she had friends, but none as good as the friends that we were. When I’d come home from college to visit, I had my pick of rooms to sleep in, but for some reason, Lindsay and I always ended up sleeping in the same room and in the same bed. What would I do without my Lindsay?
I also recall us making plans to have an adjoining hall between our homes when we grew up. Shhh . . . we haven’t told Keith and Elliot yet! Happy Birthday Sissy!
No comments:
Post a Comment