Sarah

I burned my pinkie today getting a pizza out of the oven. It seems like no matter how hard I try I always get burnt using the oven. I burned myself this morning too, actually. I was making cream of wheat in the little sauce pan and when i put the powder in the water i guess i didn't do it gradually enough, it all clumped together, so I got a whisk and broke the clumps up, when i was done i set the whisk in the pan. The pan was small and the whisk was long and heavy,(I couldn't find my pants this morning, so I wasn't wearing any) and the whisk immediately fell out throwing a huge clump of red hot cream of wheat on my thigh, it burned bad, so my hand (even though i told it not to) rushed down and wiped it off, so now my left hand was burning so my right hand did the only thing it could think of, wiped the cream of wheat onto itself. I can take pain very well (someone like me learns to quickly) but that made me cry. so my palms my thigh and my right pinkie are burned. But that cream of wheat was the best I've ever had!

My sister, Sarah. Poor girl, she's always been...umm...uncoordinated. At first we thought it had to do with the growing phases, every time she would gain some height, she would run into new things with her head: the drawers, counter, microwave door. But we began to understand that it's a life-long saga when we were out for a bike ride and she ran into a boulder. A massive boulder that she ran STRAIGHT into and fell over. She's never lived that one down.
Don't even bring up scar stories with the girl. She can out-scar anyone we know (except for maybe Ray, who had his entire forearm reconstructed after a motorbike accident). She's burned herself, lit herself on fire at least 3 times (she wasn't allowed around candles for ages - her hair always seemed to meander into the flame), stepped on a pitchfork, run into numerous walls and corners, fallen down the stairs...I could go on.
Daniel and I are not entirely blameless, I think. She was always our guinea pig - small enough to fit wherever we wanted to put her and usually willing to do just about anything for the older siblings. Two events come to mind.
When she was three or four, (I am six years older - so I was old enough to know better) I put her in one of my oversized sweatshirts and tied the sleeves behind her, straight-jacket style. The three of us then proceeded to play our favorite game on the trampoline - "Who gets the bounce?" Sarah got it and promptly flew headlong off the trampoline.
Sarah: (crying) "Mooooooooooom!"
Daniel and Liz: "Shhhhhh! Stop crying and we'll get her for you! Are you ok? STOP CRYING! You're alright! Don't tell Mom! Quick, take off the sweatshirt. SHUT UP!!! It was an accident!"

When we built our current residence nine years ago, we were always looking for relatively safe ways to entertain ourselves. Now on this occasion I truly was not involved. This was ALL Daniel. On the cement driveway, he set up two of Dad's sawhorses and placed a ladder across them. Sarah was instructed to stand on the ladder - moving back and forth as necessary - and dodge the "flaming arrows," little daggers of wood Daniel would chuck at her. I heard they got pretty good before Sarah fell off, hitting her head on the cement.
At this age I knew enough about concussions to suspect she had received one. We told Mom who, needless to say, was more than a little perturbed. Daniel and I were placed on "don't-let-her-sleep" duty while Mom phoned a nurse friend. Sarah ended up concussion-less, but I still think it has something to do with her pattern of self masochism. Not that it's intentional...or is it? I'll have to hypnotise her and ask.

Anyway! Sarah has now become one of my best friends. She writes me the best emails, so real and honest, it's just like talking to her. I look forward to them and wish it wasn't so expensive to call. Before I left, she and I shared a "bedsroom" for two years. Originally it was only going to be for the winter because my room was so cold. She and I had so much fun sharing a "bedsroom," however, that when I went home over break, we still slept in the same room. My favorite nights are when we're so tired that we laugh until it hurts. I miss that.