I don’t think I tell my sister enough about how much I admire her. She was standing out by the back door, watching Teddy, Lorrie, and Mel playing on the swing set. She cleared her throat a bit and sighed.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was thinking about Lorrie and Teddy and how she only got to be the mother of one of the two children that she gave birth to.

Lex came up behind me and put her arm around me as I stood down the hallway and watched my sister as she watched the kids. Lex leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and then nudged me in Jeannie’s direction.

I was a little on the nervous side as I approached her. I put my hands on Jeannie’s shoulders and turned her towards me. “Thank you.” That’s all I said, but the gazes that passed between us said volumes.

Jeannie hugged me until I thought she would never let go. I hugged her back just as hard. Raising her head from my shoulder, Jeannie spotted Lex wiping a tear from her eye. She gave me one more squeeze and shouted, “GROUP HUG!”. She tore after Lex and chased her around the house until Lex bolted out the front door. Naturally, I was running right after them, laughing and crying at the same time.

Martha was on the way up to the house from her cottage about that time. She put her hands on her hips in true Martha fashion, and called out, “Lexie! What have I told you about running in the house?”

Lex was so surprised that she stood stock still, which, of course, gave Jeannie and me just enough of a break to tackle Lex to the ground. Followed by the kids, yelling, laughing and hurling their short little bodies at the pile of mothers on the ground.

“Lost their minds. I knew it was just a matter of time, but they’ve gone completely insane.” Martha shook her head. As for us, we were totally lost to our laughing and playing. “C’mon, Freckles. Maybe I can make lunch for you.” Freckles happily barked her agreement.

I love my family.

Amanda.

The first thing I am going to do today is to go to town and buy a lock for our bedroom door.

I remember years ago when all we had to worry about was Martha waking us up when Lex and I had gone to bed au naturale. Now we have the kids.

“Momma? How come your pajamas are on inside out?”

“Mommy? How come Momma’s pajamas…Mommy where are your pajamas?”

For many years, we were able to convince the girls of some ridiculous reason our pajamas had other places to be, other than on our bodies. But Lorrie got old enough for “the talk”. You know the one.

Lex and I argued for days about who should have the honor of explaining to our daughter what she had probably figured out on her own already. Neither one of us wanted to face her alone, so we eventually came to the conclusion that two parents were safer than one.

Needless to say, it was an enlightening talk, and when it was over, we learned much more about what our daughter was aware of. Much more.

Last weekend, while shopping with my grandmother, Lex, and the kids, Lex took the girls to the cookie vendor at the food court. While we waited, my grandmother and I stood outside of Victoria’s Secret . I spied a red teddy in the shop’s window and by the way I kept staring at it, my grandmother easily deduced that I wanted to buy the teddy for Lex.

“Don’t you think Lex would look amazing in that teddy, Dearest? Red is such a good color on her.”

My head whipped around to stare open-mouthed at my grandmother, MY GRANDMOTHER, who wore a smug look on her face at my discomfiture.

“Ub..um…GRANDMA! I…you’re not supposed…GRANDMA!”

Later on, my grandmother said that the shocked expression on my face was priceless. I was shocked to the core at hearing MY GRANDMOTHER making a comment like that. While I stood there trying to get my mind back from the billions of pieces it had exploded into, MY GRANDMOTHER marched right into Victoria’s Secret and bought the red teddy. I have to say, the look on the sales girl’s face was great, as she tried not to show her own disbelief of my grandmother buying such an item.

Grandma had the teddy gift-wrapped and attached a card that simply said, “From an admirer.” By the time Lex showed up with the kids, my grandma had slipped the wrapped package under my arm and had given me a wink.

“Watcha got?” Lex asked. Melanie’s attention seem wholly absorbed by her cookie. But Lorrie, the observant one piped up.

“Mommy, why is your face all red? Hey! Victoria’s Secret? Isn’t that the one on TV that has all those…um..ooooh! Hey mom, didja buy something there? Gonna show us?”

The redder my face got, the more questions Lorrie asked. And the harder she and my grandmother laughed. Lex was much more appreciative and saved her comments for when the package was unwrapped at home. Although, she insisted that I try on the teddy first.

That night, I peeked out from behind the bathroom door to see Lex perched on the bed with an expectant smirk on her face. With her encouragement, I walked up to Lex so that she could…um…examine the outfit. Just as she was exploring how well the teddy fit my curves, with her lips and hands, guess who barges into our room?

Like I said. I’m buying a lock.
Amanda

My sister Jeannie complains that I don’t take her culinary skills seriously. I told her that I really do. Every new cooking experience she has turns into a disaster. Heck, last Thanksgiving, even her own oven rebelled and refused to be involved in her first attempt at hosting Thanksgiving dinner at her house.

We usually host the holiday meals at our place since it’s big enough for our large, extended family and a few unexpected guests. But last year, it was just Jeannie and Rodney, their son, Teddy, and our little family of four. Martha and Charlie had gone to Florida for a short vacation with Amanda’s grandparents and her father and Lois, so Jeannie decided that it was the perfect opportunity for her little trio to be the family’s Thanksgiving hosts.

Everything seemed to be going fine, despite my prognostications of doom and inedible food. That was until the potatoes boiled over on the stove, causing the self-cleaning oven to lock up and auto-clean with the turkey and dressing still inside.

We had to banish the kids to the backyard to play when Teddy innocently asked: “Why does Mommy’s dinner smell so bad?” And Melanie complained, “Momma, can I have a peanut butter sandwich instead?” Of course, our diplomatic child, Lorrie, didn’t help much either when she told the other two kids, “Well, at least the oven will eat Aunt Jeannie’s cooking.”

When Jeannie realized there was no way to save the turkey, she was mortified and vowed to make good on our Thanksgiving meal. Lex and Jeannie took off to the supermarket for whatever they had available. Somehow, I had visions of a Thanksgiving Spam loaf, re-shaped like a turkey.

No sooner did Jeannie and Lex pull out of the driveway, than her husband and I came down with an uncontrollable case of the giggles. Pretending to be the turkey, Rodney got down by the oven door and begged in a high-pitched voice, “Help me! Get me out of here!” Then we proceeded to tell every bad turkey joke we could think of.

Me: “Why doesn’t a turkey cross the road like the chicken does?”
Rodney: “It’s stuck in the oven!”

Rodney: “What do you have when your turkey gets stuck in a self-cleaning oven?”
Me: “Something really fowl-smelling!”

Still laughing, Rodney got his tool box out, and together we dismantled the oven door, wrapped the horrible looking bird in newspaper, and I made a quick trip to the nearest dumpster to dispose of the evidence.

By the time that Lex and Jeannie got back with our substitute Thanksgiving dinner, the door was back on the oven, the kitchen was clean, and the tools had been put away. As for the oven, it never cooked another meal. It simply refused to cook anything Jeannie put inside of it.

But Jeannie wants to try again. No way! This year, Thanksgiving is at the RockingW.

Amanda.

When Lexington Marie Walters laughs, my heart feels like it will burst with its own joy. She has a deep, infectious laugh that lights up her eyes and lets you see the beautiful person within.

When Lex runs her hands through my hair, I feel warm and loved. The caressing is so intimate that it brings tears to my eyes and a sense of love and devotion that is immeasurable.

When Lex compliments my looks, I feel like the most precious, cherished woman in the world. Ah, Lex. What your laughter, your fingers running through my hair, and your compliments do for me!

My hairdresser is unavailable and my hair has needed a good trim for a few weeks now. Finally tired of the struggle to keep it tamed and unable to sleep with my hair falling into my eyes, I got up in the middle of the night to trim my bangs and mistook straight edged scissors for thinning shears.

This morning, Lex laughed as she ran her fingers through what was left of my bangs, and said, “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll grow back.” When I glared at her she added, “Really, it’s not too bad. Maybe a shorter look works for you.”

Somehow, her laughter, the feel of her fingers in my hair, and her compliments had the complete opposite effect than they usually do. And I could swear, as she retreated from the bedroom, she mumbled, “And we tell the kids not to play with scissors.”

OMG! The kids! Lorrie and Mel are going to have a field day with this!
Amanda

My sister’s Californian roots are showing. She thought the responsible thing to do, being married to a doctor and all, is to eat a more natural, “healthy” diet.

The girls and I were visiting her today when Jeannie invited me into the kitchen to taste her newest healthy creation.

“What is it?” I asked, not really enjoying the sight before me. In a flat baking pan was this brown dog-poop looking pastry. At first I thought she had found a better way to make brown sugar cookie squares. But, no.

“Try some!”

NEVER EVER TRY ANYTHING NEW WHEN YOU ARE THE ONE HAVING THE FIRST BITE.

It was flax bread. You know, flax? What they spin to make linen from? Flax.

But Jeannie is my sister, and sisterhood trumps common sense. So I took a bite of the piece she cut for me.

I’d rather graze from the south pasture where the cattle are right now than to ever taste anything made out of flax again.

Jeannie watched me with a puzzled expression as my face went from curious to disgusted to murderous.

“You’re gonna die, sis!” I swear that was the nastiest thing I ever put in my mouth.

Lorrie told me later that when she and Mel and Teddy were out playing and I was watching them, Jeannie carried something out to the garbage can and dumped the whole thing in, baking sheet and all.

Flax. Ugh!
Amanda.

Our precious daughter, Melanie, learned a life lesson today in the nature of consequences. She has been saving her allowance from doing her chores to buy herself new *pink* cowboy boots. She spotted them in a costume catalog and decided that she must have a pair. But instead of purchasing new boots, that she nearly had the money for, she bought Grandpa Charlie a new electric razor.

Of course, when she tearfully handed over the gift-wrapped box, Grandpa Charlie picked her up and hugged her so hard, I thought Melanie’s eyeballs would pop. She hugged her grandpa back and promised never to bother his things without asking. Martha, naturally, awarded them both with a plate of fresh made oatmeal-raisin cookies. Mel’s favorite.

Freckles hasn’t been as forgiving.

Our Lorrie, bless her heart, was furious with Melanie, and would barely tolerate her presence. Then an older child at school started making fun of Mel. Lorrie found out about it and said it was worth it to spend the afternoon in the principal’s office. She didn’t hurt the boy, but he did have to clean his britches after she told him how they turn a stallion into a gelding. Then she put her arm around her sister and said, “Nobody messes with you!” And hugged her.

She is so like her momma.

Amanda.

Did I ever mention that Jeannie has too many refrigerators?

When she married Rodney, Dr. Rodney, or uncle Rod, and our kids call him, his well-meaning family decided that they should give the happy couple something that would be of use for a long time. Something that would see them through their child’s teenage years, especially if their son ate as much as Rodney did as a teenager.

They gave them a new refrigerator. “How wonderful,” you say?
My folks thought so, too.
Dad gave them a new refrigerator.
Charlie, Martha and Ronnie went in on a new refrigerator.
Not to be outdone, so did we.
Oh, and so did my grandpa and grandma.

The wedding reception was a hoot. The delivery trucks showed up with several huge, gift wrapped cardboard containers. Each one carrying popular brands with and without ice-makers.

There were very few small packages and absolutely no toasters. Or waffle makers, or coffee makers.

The family left it up to them to decide what to do with the surplus kitchen appliances. After all, they could just pick what they wanted and return the rest for other things they might need. That was the conclusion the family drew until Rodney and Jeannie couldn’t hold in the laughter anymore.

Guess who’d bought themselves a very practical early wedding present?

Toasters are much easier to return. When Lorrie grows up and gets married, I think we’ll just go with that. I imagine she’ll get something several years old, but right out of the box from her Aunt Jeannie and Uncle Rodney.

Amanda.

Well, the poopy brown stuff has made contact with oscillatory device.  And, accordingly, Lex is in hiding. Laughing her posterior off.  But hiding.

When Lorrie and Lex returned from the bunk house, I didn’t have the heart to tell Lorrie that Mel had given her faithful dog a makeover. The buzz cut was right down the center of Freckles’ back.

“MOM?! What happened to my dog?”

Of course, Mel was nowhere to be found when Lorrie marched Freckles into the room to show her momma Freckles’ reverse Mohawk.

Lorrie narrowed her eyes.  “Did my sister do this?”

There are times I really love Martha.  Then there was this particular moment when she walked into the room.

“She sure did, honey. And with Grandpa Charlie’s favorite electric razor.”

Mel is still hiding under her bed.

Lex decided that she needed to go back to the bunk house.  I hope she’s comfortable there.

Amanda.

Mel just got back from Martha and Charlie’s cottage. She was batting her eyelids like they were on fire.

“I’m s’posed to tell you Mada is gonna call,” she sweetly said.  Then she hugged my legs and volunteered to take a nap.

Unfortunately, Lorrie was down at the bunk house with Lex and couldn’t rat on her sister.  I had to wait for Martha’ s call. Fortunately, Melanie had barely cleared the top stair step when the phone rang. She turned around and stared down at me for a moment before turning on her heels and making a beeline for her bedroom.

“Hi, Martha. What did she do? No, I haven’t seen Freckles, why? Wait,  here  she comes up the front steps.”

“Oh my god! Please tell Charlie I’ll buy him a new razor.”

“MELANIE LEIGH WALTERS!  YOUR SISTER IS GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Amanda

I like tuna fish. I like sushi. I like shell-fish.  And once in a while, Lex tries to hold her nose while I have some. 

“This is Texas, after all,” she says. “We only eat meat we can brand.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Doesn’t anyone in this state go fishing?” I ask.

“When was the last time  you saw a fishing pole at the feed store?” Lex counters.

“Well, nevermind. The last time I had fish was when Melanie was in diapers.  It’s about time I indulged myself a little.”

Lex looked thoughtful for a minute.  “That was fish?  I thought that smell was something in Mel’s diapers!”

Can a person smirk and run for their lives at the same time?  I swear my Lexington can.

Amanda