You know when you are seven years old and you think you are so smart and so cool? You parade around the house flashing peace signs because you're one part hippie, one part sweet seniorita in your flower girl shoes and your Easter hat. You assume you are the cat's meow with bangs and dimples and your lace socks folded over. Your dad tells you to say cheese, and just before he snaps the photo your sister sneaks around the corner. She isn't cool enough to throw a peace sign at the camera. She doesn't know to take fashion ues from a banana sticker. Nope, she's wearing my hand-me-down dress and four year old jelly shoes. Yet, she still steals the show. I look like a fool and she's so sweet she gives me a toothache.
Twenty-something years later and she's doing it again. Mary just has to smile at Bennett and he loses it. Meanwhile, I'm doing Jim Carey imitations and dancing like a hyena to earn even a fake little giggle. Like the kid thinks I deserve a break. Mary spins the boy in a recliner, cackles. Mary walks into the room and he grins. Who knows what's going to happen when he's a big kid and he starts slipping him cookies before dinner. We're all in trouble.
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