Mouth of Babes

September 21, 2008

"Are you registered to vote?" she asked when I picked up the phone.

No hello, no good morning. Took me a second to comprehend. It was Saturday and my first morning to sleep in weeks after working 12 days straight. I had spent the night before being a good friend and helping my buddy see if a male review was worthy of the upcoming bachelorette party she's throwing . . .

"Yes," I answered with a smile. And cradled the phone to talk to my 9--year-old baby sister, who I keep realizing is no baby. She was hanging with my dad outside of Wal-Mart as he helped register folks to vote. See why I love them? Earlier this year after the primaries she asked me had I voted and if I had voted for Hillary or Barack. If I could vote, I'd vote for Barack she said. She's been learning about weather at school and Native Americans (and excited I volunteered us to make some different types of corn for the holiday). She tells me to hold on as she applies her lip gloss. Then we sing our fav song: Peanut Butter Jelly Time.
This pic is from when the three of us went fishing for her 6th birthday. Dad made a rule whoever caught the biggest fish won. After fish 3 for her, I was still waiting for one to tug my line. I caught one. She caught 3 more. I catch a big one. She leaves with 9, me 3, but I did have the biggest . . .
I feel guilty I dont see her more. She asks when Im coming everytime we chat. I want to see her step team break it down at the PTA meeting next week. One day. Today duty calls