If there was one person I wanted in my life when I was growing up, it was a little brother. In my mind, he would be the the epitome of adorable, with chubby cheeks, a crooked smile and a slight lisp. He'd glance at me admiringly, thinking that I was cool in itself and hold tight at my hand when we went for our classic ice cream runs.
While I would envelop myself in this sweet daydream, I would also simultaneously ignore my younger sister and her whining cries of 'Saaawwwaaahh'. No offence to my girl Jess, but she could be a complete and utter shit. I mean, she did attempt to comb my hair between her toes. That was just one of her half brained antics. There is a reason that we still have regular disputes over what really are minuscule matters. (Bitch how hard is it to put my books back on my bookcase where you found them)
Nonetheless, I now consider her as my best friend/other half/homegirl/partner in crime/etc. I could not imagine life without the warming presence of my sister and without a doubt, she knows me better than I probably know myself. At her end of the spectrum, she never knew life without me to begin with, so I know that these feelings are mutual. We both eat unfeasible amounts of ice-cream together, we both cry at Million Dollar Baby together and we both love to rock out to some fabulous tunes together. Until the end of time/ice cream, I know that we got each others' backs and nothing will change that.