Day 68 - Battle of the Aunts

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, my sister, Anne, visited and saw the kiddies for the first time. I'd have to say my sister and I are pretty close. We enjoy doing a lot of the same things: playing jokes on our mom, annoying our mom, ridiculing our mom on the internet. But because we are six years apart, we weren't always that close.

I remember growing up being very excited to have a sister. I even drew this gigantic mural (at least for a six year old) with a bunch of cartoon characters on a piece of butcher paper. On the bottom of the paper I wrote with my Crayolas "I Love Anne." Pretty cute, huh? But once Little Annoying Annie came home and ruined my life as the only child, I revisited the mural and did a little editing. With a firm stroke, I crossed out the word "love" and replaced it with "hate." "I Hate Anne." And funny enough, I still write that in bathroom stalls across LA.

When the kids were first born, my sister made these personalized t-shirts that said the following:



You don't see any insecurity issues with my sister, do you? While I was on my four hour round trip trek to LAX to pick up my sister, I told Lisa to dress the kids up in those self-promoting shirts Anne made. But with a small change:


And for those of you whom have forgotten Lisa's gigantic Redwood forest family tree, Susan is Lisa's sister who sent us a trove of teddy bears and produce costumes for the kids.

On the drive back from LAX, I called home to give Lisa the signal to dress the kids up in the "I Love Auntie Susan" shirts. An hour and forty-five minutes later, we made our way home. Anne walked to the kids and had a big grin on her face.

"OH! LOOK! They're wearing the t-shirts!" Anne exclaimed with joy.

Then she pulled down their blankets to reveal the name "Susan". Suddenly, joy turned into disappointment and rage. Look at how angry Anne looks in this picture:


After Anne threw the kids to the ground and berated them for insulting her, we had to explain to Anne that Andrew and Emma are way too young to come up with this practical joke. So I lied and told her it was Mom's idea. So after Anne threw Mom to the ground and berated her, we took the labels off the t-shirts and calmness ruled the rest of the day...


...until I wrote on our bathroom wall "I hate Anne."