See how happy she is?
Then I came along and promptly tried to eat her face.
Luckily for my parents, they had one sweet-tempered child.
That child was not me.
She also knows that when I get in my darkest, bleakest moods, the best cure is to go see Duran Duran in concert again. (She and I will be seeing our boys again in April . . . for the seventh time.) She doesn't judge me, or make me feel bad when I forget to mail her and her husband's anniversary card on time and have to run it over to her house and tuck it in the mailbox a day late. (Bonus: she also had the common sense to marry a wonderful guy, and he never makes me feel bad, either.) And nobody can make me laugh like my sister.
I'm happy to report that I've outgrown my tendency to try and gum her cheek. I do still try to pick her nose once in a while, though (third picture in the strip).
Happy birthday, Kim. Thanks for being the best big sister in the world.