On having a little sister

Everyone who is anyone reads my blog. And everyone who is anyone knows I have a bad case of sister envy. I wanted a sister so badly. Once I got one, the joke was on me. It wasn't long before I realized...Wait a minute, this child has wavy hair and a dimple and can wear all the fashion trends and look cute (she was a trendy baby, okay?). But we're all glad I could come first to suck up the last of the straight hair and smooth dimple-less cheeks (that would be face cheeks, ya nasties) from the gene pool. Drama queen much? No, I am not. 

This wavy haired, cheek dimplin', fashion trending sister of mine is turning 17 today. 17! Next year she will be buying lottery tickets! (Ann, don't do it) Where has the time gone? Well, I'm glad you asked. Lemme tell you about Little Annie's life.

First and foremost, this child (who is almost a legal adult, major gasping over here) is a riot. If we weren't sure of her rioting tendencies when, at a mere 5 years old, she yelled, "You just don't understand how hard my life is!" we definitely confirmed her status of riot when she started hiding her cough syrup and telling us she would take it if we could find it. Sneaky little homegirl, that one. 

Some other fun facts about A.E. Moore?

She lives off of a strict diet of plain noodles with butter. Goldfish. And other odd creations such as pretzle sticks and marshmallows. Mini m&ms and hershey kisses by the pounds. Etc., etc. Why yes, she is turning 17. That was not a typo for 7. And yes, she weighs about 90 lbs soping wet. Maybe this is a diet we all should be considering?

She is very outgoing. Which means brave in my book. One minute she's off being a social butterfly and driving all around the state of GA visiting friends. The next minute she's telling the baristas at Starbucks if they could make her frappucino with creme instead of coffee that that would be great (insert sweet smile) So brave! 

As seen with her eating habits, she has her own unique taste. This is also true with clothing. Growing up, mom and I would always pick up the frilly, lacy, beautiful little Easter dresses while Ann would run up to us begging for the disco, trashy, fur collared, glittery dresses. Do not call her a prissy girl because there were no hair bows on this child's head!


Happy Birthday, Ann!!!


You're crazy and I love you. And I can't believe you are 17. The older I get the more I cherish our sweet sweet friendship. Good thing you're so awesome...


And now for some embarrassing pictures!