Sunday, June 1, 2008

Good NIGHT Girls!"

No one in the world can make me laugh like my sister. Absolutely no one. Every time one or the other isn't home for a couple of days my mother always comments on how quiet it is, how much she misses hearing us talking and laughing.
I've been dogsitting this week 45 minutes away and we were both getting a bit bored being alone so my sister came to visit. We went grocery shopping at 8:00 at night then hung out and made chocolate chip pancakes. It was getting late and she didn't feel like driving back home so she stayed over. We were trying to get comfortable in bed with a 120 lb spoiled dog in between us, which took quite a while, but we finally got settled and turned the light out. The two of us in the same room at night is trouble. It always has been, it always will be. We don't fight, we talk and laugh. When we were little my dad would have to come upstairs almost every night, his footsteps thumping heavily on the stairs, stopping in our door way to say, "Put your heads on your pillows, close your eyes, and go to sleep." After a few minutes of silence we would inevitably erupt in laughter and more talking, prompting him to bellow up the stairs, "Good night girls!"
That night was no exception. We talked a bit and then started to drift off to sleep until I said something funny (Who knows what it was), and that was it. "Do you remember the last time we dogsat Aurora and she we couldn't stop laughing and she was glaring at us because she wanted to go to sleep?" She asked. I actually didn't, but that prolonged the conversation.
She was mean and got a song stuck in my head, so I rolled over and asked, "Do your ears hang low?" Ask her that and she will have it in her head for days. It's priceless. Somehow after that it turned to writing and giving each other detailed accounts of how our collective projects have been going. After swapping ideas and debating plot lines it ran to books, specifically a book I'd been reading about an assassin and an inn.
"We should run an inn," I said. She replied that two sisters running an inn was cliched, and suggested that we have a bouncer to shake up the image. "A bouncer?!" I asked incredulously. She started giggling and tried to explain it in a way that didn't sound completely ridiculous. "He'd just be a guy to help with the luggage and occasionally intimidate the guests," She decided. By this time neither of us were anywhere near sleep, so we debated what type of house to get for the inn, which took a while--We never did agree on anything. then she yawned and demanded why I had to say anything funny in the first place, "I was just about to get to sleep!" she said. (What was it I said?)
She left the next afternoon after taking care of the animals food and water for me while I was glorying in a bed empty of other people and bratty dogs (Aurora was whining and stamping her foot outside the bathroom at that point), and we both went back to our own personal states of ennui without each other to break it up.

3 comments:

Pliny The Dreamer said...

Will our inn be run by a hit-woman too? This is making me rethink your whole obsession with weapons and self-defense. *wondering if investment in bullet-proof vest would be wise endeavor*

Violet said...

Blame Lee Child for that particular obsession... And seeing as I am not planning on becoming a hitman, I do not believe one will be running our inn. Not that I'd singlehandedly deal with cranky guests and numbers of towels and money and reciepts... I'll leave all that crap to you :-)

Pliny The Dreamer said...

The love just emanates off you in waves