We live in a very small house, so my sister is being put up in Gabi's room while she's here. She gets to sleep with a plethora of pink bedding, and wake up to a strand of butterflies strung across the room. My rock-n-roll, hippy, sailor swearing sister is dealing with it as best she can.
What she wasn't prepared for was to be woken up prematurely (and by that I mean at 9:30 in the morning instead of noon) to scratching noises by her head.
Apparently, Gabi couldn't stand not being able to rearrange the furniture in her dollhouse for one more minute, and snuck into her room even though her Aunt was still sleeping. My sister called me at work from the bed to groggily tell me all about it. She thinks it's my fault.
Me: But I'm not even there! It's mom's fault. Go tell mom to get her out.
Sister: It IS your fault. And she's fine, I'm already up.
Me: Please, how is it MY fault?
Sister: YOU obviously passed on your OC tendencies and love for decorating. The kid is REARRANGING FURNITURE, for Christ's sake.
Me: Oh, I see where you're going with this. But let me tell YOU, rearranging furniture is FUN.
And really, sleeping past 9:30 with a four year old in the house? Not a very realistic expectation. Though I didn't tell her that before she came for fear she'd cancel her trip. Some things you just have to learn the hard way.
Her revenge will be swift, if I know my sister. She's already asked if she could henna Gabi's hands. I wouldn't be surprised if I came home to find Gabi with henna from head to toe. Or half a head of purple hair.
I blamed her yesterday for my clothing mishap, she blamed me today for getting woken up too early. It's a vicious cycle. And so much fun.
I'm glad she's here.