She is fire. She can kill with a stare. She is ice. She can never be touched. She inspires admiration from both family and strangers. She is bratty and selfish, yet she is selfless and loving. She is snow, pure as light yet venomous as a black widow. She is a child, yet in her there is an inner strength that only a woman of years know.
She is a child, a lady, a woman. She is my sister. She is me. She is everything that I am not.
Happy 8th birthday Sis! Mwah!
*** here's B asleep, tired from all the playing that he did with his aunt an hour ago ...