Today is Sally’s 19th birthday. Tatum has done a lovely collage of photos for you to celebrate the Sal-ster, but where Tatum believes that pictures are worth a thousand words, I believe that pictures may need a thousand words to explain them.

Fear not, I’m really too tired to give you 1000 words for each of these, but I am pleased to give you a glimpse into the childhood that created this insanity that is me.

Let’s start here. I’m the one rockin’ the hot pink/black combo leotard. (I’ve always been ahead of the fashion trends- I knew pink and black was going to be huge.) There’s Doe, our nanny/maid lady, who to this day I cry every time I talk to her. Would you believe that Sally actually still sits on Mom’s lap like that every now and then?

Tatum wanted to be a model. Can you tell. Nice jeans. The wind is blowing. They are actually standing on a rock in our backyard. This one makes me laugh out loud every time.

The beginnings of a classic Downs daughter game called Road Hog. It looked like this- Tatum and Annie ride Sally’s plastic toys around the hardwood floors until Annie wins and makes Tatum cry. Sally watches. She asks if she can play, we say sure. Then we both get up and leave to go do something else. Game over.

I have a mullet. There is little to no shame in that. And let me tell you about Tatum’s pink boots. She loved them. One time, I convinced her that it was cool to swim in those boots. They died that day. And I’m pretty sure I got a spanking for that.

After I left for college, my family became Amish. A hard loss will do that to folks.
I came home, they recovered; if this is what “recovered” looks like. Can you even imagine what the Sears people thought when Tatum said, “Can I wear that raincoat?” and I said, “Can I be a fireman?”

In all seriousness, I’m pretty lucky when it comes to family. Strike that, I’m really lucky. And I do love my sisters. Especially for moments like this last picture. It’s rare, but it is sweet.
Happy birthday, Sally. I love you.
Tatum, sorry about the boots. Sorta.

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