I will begin with this: I am a wimp. I am cautious and hesitant to participate in any activity in which injury is a possibility. I am delicate. I bruise like a peach. Growing up I never understood how some of the girls I knew were so tough. Like my friend Shannon who would wrestle with her huge Golden Retriever as I sat horrified, biting my nails safely behind the doggie-gate. Or Katie, the girl that could take a punch to the nose and hop right back up to sock the kid who did it. I never understood how these "tough girls" got so tough. Why did I earn the nickname of "mom" by the third grade for my scaredy-cat "g...g...guys, be care-ful!" catch phrase?

Why? I'll tell you why... I had seven sisters.

When I got into a fight with one of my sisters...I didn't wrestle, or punch or kick. I tore their homework in half, poured bleach on a prized article of clothing, or ripped the head off of a beloved Malibu Barbie doll.

I never had someone toughen me up. Therefore, I grew up wimpy.

I missed out on this...





p.s. I hope Bridgette doesn't mind me posting these pictures, I just couldn't help it. Cutest little face ever.