Lucie: "Nora, I think you ate a really good dinner."
Nora: "No, YOU ate a really good dinner... you had almost more than ME!" (She didn't. This is an absolute lie.)
Lucie: "But I think YOU ate a really good dinner, because, I LOVE you!"
It's okay, I'm allowed to have that reaction, even as their mom. I promise. In fact, BECAUSE I'm their mom, I get to make that call, and I say, yes, in this case, a "BARF" response is sometimes what's called for.
But, this. This is sister love. Right here. Innocent, unconditional, and, well, always when I least expect it.
These girls are so in love with each other. Like, so much, that it sometimes makes us nearly cringe and gag as their parents. And yet, somehow - in between all this lovey-language and hugging and baby talk to each other - they are screaming and hitting and snatching toys from each other and mortal enemies. Day and night, Jekyl and Hyde, whatever you want to call it.... these little Two-Faces can switch it on and off like nobody's business.
It's a sister thing.
I remember this too, with my sister, but as an adult, feel like the petty arguing and fighting over toys or clothes or which game to play or who-hit-who-first make up a very small percentage of the childhood memories I have of the two of us. I do remember, very clearly, lots of make-believe... using our young brains and active imaginations to create our own little worlds - playing "apartments" in our bedrooms upstairs, or "store" - or building houses out of couch cushions or lawn chairs and beach towels - or just running laps around the coffee table listening to Elvis's Blue Hawaii or the Cabbage Patch Kids record. I see echoes of these scenes when I'm called into Nora's room to see an after-breakfast "performance" of Moana (involving a lot of jumping off the bed "into the ocean" and improv songs that are definitely not found on the soundtrack), or see cart-loads of stuff wheeled into the living room for a picnic in the "woods" complete with winter hats and gloves and scarves and various wild stuffed animals. That is, until, Lucie explodes because Nora sang over her part of the finale song, or jumped too soon, or brought TWO picnic blankets out when OBVIOUSLY there's only supposed to be ONE blanket for the picnic, even if this picnic is apparently taking place in the arctic.
I think, as sisters, we made it through adolescence pretty well - not too many actual physical fights (I will not forget the times that I playfully slapped her on the side of the face and ran away - on more than one occasion - just knowing how furious it made her). And, most of our arguments (that I can remember anyway) only centered around me complaining that I wasn't invited or welcomed to hang out with my older sister and friends at the point in your lives when a four-year age difference is most dramatic. I'm left now with what seems like half a lifetime of really great memories with an awesome, (only slightly) older version of myself in many ways, who I consider my very best girlfriend that knows me, understands me, and loves me, more than anyone else.
I watch my girls play and hug and fight and wrestle and cry and then hug again, and wish and hope with all my heart that when they're old enough to realize it, they'll be so lucky to see what they really have in each other.
.....Okay, now it's your turn - don't worry, I'll allow it. I deserve it: