My family, Part III: Carrie

Next in the installments of my family is my older sister Carrie.  My sister and I have a unique relationship. 

I’m four years younger than Carrie, which was nothing when we were little and is nothing today, but the middle years were tough going. 

We played together a lot as kids.  Barbies, playing school, playing house, and bakery.  Those were the favorites.  We both had a Barbie townhouse and we each had our own Barbies.  Carrie had some weird Ken with brown hair and in all my memories of Barbie playing, he only had one arm.  She also had a pair of red rubber Barbie shoes.  Now ladies, I know you are all fully aware of the difficulties of Barbie shoes.  They just never stay on!  But these red rubber ones were the BEST. They stayed on her feet and the matched the satin red skirt beautifully.  Thus, I was not permitted to use them.  Ever. 

Playing house, Carrie was the mom.  Playing school, Carrie was the teacher. 

We also played bakery which involved setting up our blocks for sale (the big brown ones were bread, the yellow squares were lemon squares, the red rectangles were apple fritters, and the blue squares were blueberry muffins).  Bakery was a fun Sunday morning game. 

When we got a little older, I was the pesky little sister who was desperate to hang out with my older sister and her friends.  They had no interest in my company.

High school….college….me in high school…me in college.  These were the rough years.

Moving on to more modern times. 

Carrie got married and I was her maid of honor.  I got married and she was my matron (she hates the word, so I use it) of honor.  She had two boys (the aforementioned Evan & Matthew).  She’s now a stay at home mom and she was made to do that.  One major difference between Carrie & me.

C – mom; Me – NO maternal instinct

C – a baker; Me – a cook (not that she can’t cook)

C – short; Me – tall

C – crafty; Me – Martha Stewart who?

C – thrifty; Me – I own purple shoes

C – New England Patriots; Me – Peyton Manning only, please

C – very much like my mom; Me – very much like my dad

Doesn’t matter though. 

We’ll still sit together at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning while my dad makes coffee.  We’ll come down when we’re called.  If she ever has breakfast at our house, I’ll know to prepare her English muffins with a lot of butter and a dab of peanut butter, and she’d do the same for me! When I hear old-school Madonna or that song ‘Wild, Wild, West’ I’ll always think of her.  I’ll forever cherish the wedding album she made for us and the rehearsal dinner cake she baked and decorated (peach schnapps cake….YUM!!!!).  We’ll stand together strong in our opinion that the Tutti Fruiti dessert Mum makes is not good – we’re the only ones who feel this way, by they way…everyone else loves it. 

And maybe some day, when I’m responsible, she’ll lend me those red rubber shoes.

Doubtful.

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~ by zuzu on October 10, 2007.

3 Responses to “My family, Part III: Carrie”

  1. Oh the memories. I always think of Carrie too when I hear that Wild wild west song. Too funny. And bakery. And you two had the three story Barbie house, ours only had two. I had so much fun when we visited you in the summer!

  2. Your differences remind me of me and my sister a lot. We’re seven years apart (I’m older) so I get that pesky younger sister thing.

    And also, I had a Donnie Osmond and Michael Jackson doll instead of a Ken doll. What was wrong with my parents?

  3. Purple shoes? Do you wear them often? Maybe we should have a COOL SHOES contest!

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