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As a child I was absolutely terrified of drifters jumping off the train that ran through our small country town. I was convinced they would climb through my window and murder me in my sleep. I’m not entirely sure where this fear came from, either a babysitter let me watch scary movies, or my parents put LSD in my bedtime snacks. The jury is still out on that one.

After weeks of forcing myself to stay awake into the wee hours of the night, I finally came up with a solution: my baby brother Ben. Every night when it was time for bed I begged my mom to let Ben sleep in my room. She thought I was being nurturing and wanted to spend time with my baby brother. She was dead wrong. I was seven years old—I didn’t care about anything, but my own survival.

Once baby Ben fell asleep I scooted him over to the very edge of my bed, where he was closest to the window. I thought the sound of Ben being murdered first would wake me up, therefore giving me enough time to escape.

Now, occasionally when I hear the sounds of a train I’m thankful Ben was not murdered in cold blood on my bed. I still sleep with the same Care Bear pillowcase, and would really hate to have bloodstains on it. In addition, sometimes I like having him around–you know for fixing my car and hanging shelves.

Letter to Missionary Brother #11

Dear Chady-bear,

You haven’t written me a letter in ages. You’re fired!. And so is your church. What’s the story? No letter certainly feels like no love. Did your mission president ban me?

So things here are absolutely insane. I’ve decided missions are bad luck for our family. When Ben went Jeff lost his mind, now that you are gone Jeff lost his mind again. I’m blaming the mission, not Jeff. It really should be the other way around, but Matt is going through some really hard stuff right now, too. This supports my theory that missions are bad luck. In fact, I think you should come home immediately. This is the only way to prevent anything else horrible from happening to our family. I’m not going to write about Matt’s stuff because I’m sure Mom has, and it makes me cry every time I think about it. Sometimes life is so unfair you wonder why you bother. This is one of those times.

On a happier note, it’s getting warmer here. Summer is just around the corner. I wish you were around so we could go on a camping trip. Ben is always too busy, and by busy I mean lazy. Another bit of good news: Carmen is moving home.

Uncle Bry is having a family dinner tonight, I’m excited because I get to see Jenny’s kids and because Bry will feed me. Ben and I used to go over there for Sunday dinner a couple times a month but not so much lately. I think we’ve been fired.

I’m not writing you anything about me (too bad for you, because I have lots to say) until you get your lazy ass in gear and send your sister a letter. Shame on you, Chady! Now you’ll never get to hear about my snowboarding experience. Yup, I finally went. You’re dying to know if I liked it or hated it, aren’t you? Too bad.

Love,
Sissy

PS. I was kidding about you coming home. Stay put. I need as much Hello Kitty paraphernalia as I can get.

Carter is Fired

My brother, Matt, called me yesterday. He rarely calls me, typically his wife is the one who calls. Despite being out to dinner with my other brother, Ben, I took the call thinking it may be an emergency.

Matt: “Thought I better call and inform you that your nephew is now a NASCAR fan, and he really wants to go deer hunting.”

Me: “That kid is fired! I need a replacement nephew. I liked it much better when Carter liked Dancing with the Stars. Seriously, you and Holli better get knocked up ASAP and give me a different nephew. Or else.”

Matt laughed, but little does he know I am not kidding. NASCAR? Unacceptable. I’m not too worried about the deer hunting bit. Carter is such a sweet, sensitive little tyke there’s no way he’ll grow up and kill animals. He’s terrified of my dog, and she’s tiny. It would be difficult for him to get close enough to an animal to kill. But this NASCAR thing, is very serious. I HATE IT! His obsession with cars is understandable, he’s a boy kid. However, I think the love of cars needs to stop at his race car bed.

Also, spending time with his uncle Ben needs to be limited, and with adult supervision. Otherwise Carter will grow up with a mullet and drink beer in cans. I can’t think of anything worse.

Reason #8,464 The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints Pisses Me Off:

They send my brothers on missions. Chady-bear turns 20 tomorrow and I can’t see him because he’s in a foreign country serving God or something. And to make matters worse it’s against the rules to phone him.

Turning Four

Dear Carter and Hannah,

Happy fourth birthday! The last four years have flown by–you’re growing up too fast. I wish you didn’t live in Utah County, so I could see you more. Twice a month isn’t nearly enough. I feel badly that the only time I see you are when your parents are gone. Remember I’m there because I want to be.

Carter, I’m so happy I didn’t throw you out the window the first time I babysat you. Trust me, I was tempted. You cried so much, more than any baby ever, but my friend Alecia was with me and she talked me out of doing it. You owe Leash your life.

I love you Buddy. More than I ever imagined I could love a small child who likes to play big trucks and wear animals on his clothing. You’ll always be my buddy.

Hannah, you’re everything a little girl should be: cute, pink-loving and spunky. You never stop making me laugh, especially when you attempt to have an adult conversation with me. You use vocabulary just slightly beyond your comprehension, much like your Uncle Ben.

I love you Hannah Gatanna more than the color pink. And you, of all people, will understand that’s a hell of a lot.

I have a Starbucks gift card for both of you in my purse. I couldn’t bother giving it to you on your birthday because Grandma Myrna might have been angry. And I don’t want to anger her. She calls pregnant people fat, so can you imagine what she would do to me if provoked. I’m sure you understand.

I love you two more every single day. You’ve brought our family together in a way that I never expected. I would do anything in the world for you, and would do whatever it took to protect you. You’re the closest things to true love I’ve ever known. Thank you for letting me be your Auntie.

Love, Aunt Sarah

Eh?

As it turns out, ignorance really is bliss.

I received some horrible news yesterday. Apparently I’m Canadian. Well, sorta. Not so much me, but my great-great-great grandparents were. This info rocked my world beyond belief. I’ve spent the last 13 years making fun of one of my closest friends, Carmen, for you guessed it–being Canadian.

I feel like such a bitch. A cold, heartless Canadian bitch.

A Lesson in Love

Ben called when I was picking up the kids from the daycare last week. After discussing whatever weird thing was on his mind that day, I handed the phone to the kids so they could say hello.

When Hannah was on the phone I said, “Make sure you tell Uncle Ben you love him.” She looked at me in complete disgust and said, “No, Sarah, love with boys is gross! But when you get married love is OK, and it’s not gross anymore.”

She handed me back the phone and left Ben and I to discuss how weird our family is. Even the kids.

Shaking it for Baby Jesus

It was a rough night last night. It started when I couldn’t drive up my brother’s semi-steep driveway due to massive amounts of snow, immediately followed with forgetting the garage code.

When we finally got into the house the alarm went off. I couldn’t get it to stop and Carter immediately started to cry. Followed by Hannah yelling because Carter wouldn’t stop crying. Ten very loud minutes later I convinced the alarm company I wasn’t there to harm the children, because if so, I would have DONE IT ALREADY!

I knew there was only one thing that would cheer the little buggers up: “Baby Got Back.”

And it so, so did:
The fact the kids now know the word horny guarantees I’ll never be asked to stay overnight with the kids again. It was totally worth it.

Letter to Missionary Brother #10

Dear Chadybear,

Thanks for your guilt-ridden letter. Is Mom there with you? I thought writing a lot of letters was a good thing. Little did I know you actually want them in a timely manner. For the record I’m not trying to save stamp money, I’m just lazy about going to the post office. I’ll be better. Maybe.

The new job is great. One of the guys (read: kid) I work with reminds me of you. Because of that I give him as much shit as often as possible. I’m pretty sure he hates it just like you always did, which only encourages me. He’ll get used to it eventually.

I read the part of your letter to Ben where you said you were sad you didn’t spend more time with us because and that we shouldn’t grow up before you get home. Ummm, we agreed and you have nothing to worry about. I’m glad you’re finally accepting our weird humor. Was it the Jesus Band-Aids that paved the way?

I’m sorry you got stuck on the same mission with that Plumb kid from home. He seems like an uptight little prick so it makes sense the holy toast kit we sent you offended him. Tell him to get over it. I know he sucks but try and get along with him. Oh my god, that was way too tender sister for me. How about this advice: just don’t punch him.

So your prophet died. It’s only been a day and I’m already tired of hearing people say it’s sad. It’s really, really not. He was 97. It’s taken over the news completely, as you might imagine. Totally annoying!

Oh and Chady… when you ask for contraband items you need to specify, otherwise you’re going to get porn and fireworks.

Love,
Sissy

In which I steal Arlo's word

I met the girl Ben has been dating last night.

In the past I’ve never really liked any of the girls he’s introduced me to. Essentially it’s the same girl over and over, just with a different name. The new girl, K, was nothing like the others. She had personality, style, and wasn’t nervous around me. In the past that’s been a problem. Ben claims the others have always been intimidated by me, but I think that’s a bullshit excuse for having zero personality.

K easily won me over in two simple acts: 1) she remembered what I wanted from Starbucks when Ben couldn’t, and 2) she pulled a flask out of her purse five minutes into the Sundance movie we were seeing.

In the reality show of Ben’s life. I vote K all the way.