Lookin' Spiffy

The first time I saw my little sister was through a pane of glass at the hospital. After several days of burned grilled cheese, Dad had finally brought us to the hospital to see our Mom and The Baby. Back in 1979 Moms still stayed in the hospital for several days after giving birth--and big brothers and sisters got to wave at the newest family member when the nurse held her up.

We loved her. So much so that Mom used to put her in the playpen to keep us from bothering her. For years I had a scar on my cheek from where her baby fingernail scratched me away from her personal space.

Over the years my brother and I, like siblings throughout history, teased and tormented our little sister. One of our favorite "insults," though, started quite innocently. We were dressing for some occasion and our parents said, Susan, don't you look spiffy.

I NOT SPIFFY! came the reply. We laughed and laughed over this. And, of course, called her spiffy as much as possible.

Susan is all grown up and married now. Happy birthday to a fellow Bobcat, wonderful aunt and spiffy little sister.