I’m pretty sure I just turned 21, not that long ago.
What? That was ten years ago, you say? Well, I say, shut your filthy mouth.
Today — right now, actually — my wee cousin Rachael is turning 21. She invited me out to the festivities. They started past my bedtime. Because I’m old.
She was all, “Why does Matt get a blog about his birthday party?! You’ve known me my whole life!”
And so here we are.
I changed her diapers. I babysat her, on the regular (in my aunt and uncle’s freezing house).
She is painfully pretty (as is her younger sister, Claire, who will force me to relive this horror in five more years), and they are skinny. Like, willing to post pictures of themselves in bathing suits skinny. Like, her prom dress was a size zero, and was too big.
And I love them anyway.
Thankfully, she is clumsy. At least I’m not clumsy.
I’d bet she’s super clumsy by now.
Anyway. I can still remember when she looked like this…
And now, she looks like this…
And omg, she’s an adult now.
Happy Birthday, Rach. Please eat a sandwich or ten.