I’m the oldest of three sisters, all whose names start with “A”.
The middle sister, Ann, and I are about eighteen months apart, and then the youngest sister, Ashley, is about six years younger than us.
Despite having little in common in our teen and early adult years, the three of us are now best friends.
But the problem is, there’s an odd number of us. Three.
So that means we sometimes become jealous of each other’s time.
For example, one of our recent ridiculous repartees was about who calls whom after dropping off kids in the morning car line.
‘Well, I would call but the two of y’all are always chatting it up on the way home from car line and won’t answer my calls.’
‘Well, I don’t have a missed call from you.’
‘Okay. Sure.’
‘You’re being ridiculous. We talked for two hours yesterday.’
‘Yeah but you two chat for a long time after car line and no one calls me.’
‘Well, get a grip.’
‘Okay.’