Bagels And Sisters

9 Aug

photo-173I’m back in the great Beehive State this week, enjoying a delicious cold front.  I don’t even need air conditioning here, I just roll down my car windows, bask in the 100 degree heat, and scream obscenities about Arizona!

Fine, I don’t scream obscenities.  I just think them.  Sometimes. Often?

Don’t miss you, Arizona.

The parentals are out of town, which means I wasn’t welcomed home in the grand funfetti way I’ve grown accustomed to, but which also means I’ve spent some quality one-on-one time with the baby sister Jessica.

Jessica and I are often told how much we look alike and, as good sisters do, we vehemently deny these claims.  “Who, us?  PLEASE, I look more like that red-headed 80-year-old man across the street than her!”

It’s all very unconvincing.

Jessica and I have been lounging and bageling and Dawson’s Creeking all week and I miss this so.

The hardest part of adulthood is the reality that all the people I love are never in the same place at the same time anymore and I have to take them in scraps and pieces and bagels.

And even when the bagels are smothered in homemade apricot and almond cream cheese, it’s just never really enough, you know?

You know.

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