Linda's Loser Sister

For about five years, I am better at stuff than my little sister. Then Linda starts right out in Kindergarten, getting better at stuff than me. She can already color pictures in better than me before she even starts the First Grade. – How you do it, is you use your crayon to trace an outline around the edge, and then you fill the rest in. I know, because she explains it to me. Only I never care about coloring other peoples' pictures in enough to do it her way. She quickly becomes better at making friends than I am too. We share the same friends when she is in First Grade and we're going to the same school. Then I move to a different school from her the next year, and I start doing nothing but losing friends, while she starts gaining them big-time.

I Stop Hating Karen

At first after she's born, I hate my sister Karen more than anything. She cries all the time, and she poops her diapers. And the grown-ups don't notice how disgusting she is, they just keep on liking her. They take millions of pictures of her. They never take pictures of Linda or me any more, but all Karen has to do is sit there, and out comes the camera, because that's apparently the cutest thing in the world. She sleeps in her crib. I want to know! How is that special? I sleep too, and no one ever wants to take a picture of me. She washes dishes. What's so big about that? Don't I do the same thing practically every night?

Things Were Better Before We Moved.

This is my back yard in Westminister. That window in back of me is my window, from the room I share with my sister Linda. We have a bunk bed, and I sleep in the bottom bunk because I'm the bigger one. Linda sleeps in the top bunk, with rails on her bed like it's a crib. One time I have this cake by my bed. It's a Little Debbie cake, that came in a plastic bag, and it has white frosting on top and white cream in the middle. I don't eat it in time and ants come into my room and get it. I tell Mama and Daddy that I know there are ants in my room because I can smell them (they smell like how blue cheese tastes). They don't believe me, but then they look, and they find them. Mama and Daddy are very impressed at me because I can smell ants.