Yesterday, I went to my nephew's birthday party. It was a good time. As with every function at my sister's house, the alcohol was flowing. So needless to say, you always have a good time. It was when my sister told a story about my niece that I became so proud that I almost burst. I couldn't have been prouder of this kid, if she was my own.
I will have to start at the beginning. I don't have children as of yet. We are working on it but we have had some road blocks but that is a story for another time. When my sister gave birth to my niece G ten years ago she took one look at her and started crying. When asked why she was crying, she stated, "She's not what I thought she'd look like. I just gave birth to my sister's baby." Not that she really was upset about what her daughter looked like, she just thought that after carrying this child around for nine months that it would look like her. My sister has blond hair and hazel eyes. G looked exactly like me. Still to this day, when we are out, people think that she is my daughter instead of my sister's. Not only does the child look like me, but she has inherited many of my traits, some good and some bad.
So yesterday, my sister was explaining to everyone that she spent three hours cleaning G's room and getting rid of old toys and clothes. "I think that G is a hoarder," she told everyone. "And do you know what she hoards? Notebooks! The child has at least fifty notebooks and everyone of them is totally written in. She writes stories all time. But do you know what she writes about..dragons, magic, vampires, and werewolves. Where does she get this stuff?" My mother just looked at me with raised eyebrows.
Hmm...I wonder. Here's to another trait inherited from Auntie! I'm so proud, I could burst. So I lifted my glass to my niece who is already practicing her craft at ten years old. Too bad, she doesn't have a mother who appreciates that type of imagination but I am only a phone call away.