Growing up with two younger brothers around the house was fine by me. I loved making forts in the woods, clearing brush next to the creek that's just past our back pasture for our "Crooked Creek Campground," jumping bales in the hayloft, and riding in the tractor and combine. I never considered myself a true tomboy, though, since dressing up my doll and painting my nails were favorites of mine. But, since my brothers never cared to play with Ms. Peaches and Cream or paint their toes a pink glittery hue, I couldn't help but wish for a sister.
I remember meeting my mom in the kitchen one day, around the age 6 or 7, and asking for a sister. Since there was no possibility for that anymore, she replied with, "I'm sorry hon, but we won't be having any more children." It was obviously a huge letdown for me because I fired back with, "Fine! I'll just pray for one." Then I ran upstairs, flung myself on my Strawberry Shortcake bedspread and buried my sobbing face in my pillow.
Even though my prayers for a biological sister went unanswered, God heard my cries and gifted me with two remarkable sisters-in-law.
Loyal Forever, for all eternity...Ya Ya!