Meg

My little sister is 18 today.
I honestly don't know how that happened.
Well yes, I suppose the passage of time is the answer to that but still...that girl is six years younger than me. How am I possibly six years older than an 18 year old? There's nothing like someone who you recited 'Each Peach Pear Plum' to when they were a foetus becoming a woman to make you aware of your own march towards (shut up...I'm not there yet) being a grown up.
So Meg, welcome to adulthood and Congratulations!!!! You now have the supreme joy of being able to vote: that boundary between 17 and 18 means you have to at least attempt to know what's going on in the country or you may, like I did, vote for David Cameron. I would say you also have the supreme joy of being able to drink but...you know...Then you have all of these things to look forward to: jury service, credit cards, seeing your birth certificate if you were adopted. Hint.
I jest of course. I've already admitted to foetus poetry.
I am currently living with said birthday girl for the first time since she was 10 and can I say what a treat. Maybe I'm itching for freedom at other moments but I returned to find Meg was not the annoying little girl who stole my title of 'youngest child' and grabbed my hair when she was a baby. She is now (as cheesy as I risk sounding) like my bestie.
I always knew she was funny. A child who can come up with treasures such as:

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Tree.
Tree who?
Tree branch (followed by massively disproportionate laughter)

is bound to become quite the wit. Clearly she has an innate sense of comedy. Now there is some kind of face joke/insult she throws at me that I'm too old to understand or make use of.
But I try. She's successfully converted me to the joys of One Direction and Taylor Swift. Don't judge me, I'm 18 for the next two months. I will put The Shins and Iggy Pop back on my Ipod when I become 24 again.
But this is not about me. My point is that I'm incredibly grateful to my little sister and friend who is not only pretty and funny and lovely, but she also lends me her clothes and makes a mean corn beef hash. And she drunk texts so I know all her secrets...and those of her friends. She is my Hollyoaks and I love her.

So Happy Happy Birthday! May your life be as long and charmed as you deserve. May you avoid jury service. May you find and marry Harry Stiles before all the old ladies get to him. May you smile always because you are pretty when you smile.
*Insert something vaguely insulting about your face here*

:D