You never really grow up

My baby sister just turned 40. This is appalling, not for her of course as the alternative was unpleasant, but for me, because that means I am positively ancient. I decided to take her for a quick trip to Florida to hang out for a few days. As we are both mature adults, we would surely have meaningful conversations about life and family. Right. All I can say is that the wench ate my eclair. I left it alone and unguarded overnight because, really, no one needs 450 calories before bed, but I knew in the morning it would be there waiting for me.  I awoke to discover the horror of an empty eclair package.

She decimated my unguarded, but much desired, eclair.

 Seriously, did I have to declare dibs before bed? Has she no shame? Apparently not.

The ocean was too calm to pass off a drowning as accidental.

I hereby declare shotgun to infinity. She will never get to ride in the front seat if I can help it. Even though I am 42.

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