July 1, 1992 was one of the best days of my life. It was that day that I became a big sister and the coolest little dude I know. I will never forget that day. I arrived at the hospital in pink bike shorts, and my new splatter paint t-shirt that read "I'm a big sister." I also remember throwing a hissy day because my grandma couldn't get my ponytail right and my mom was too busy having a baby to fix my hair. What a brat I am, err, was. Yeah, we'll stick with WAS. Anyway... Ryan was perfect and I instantly became attached. Then I made the mistake of closing my eyes for a second, only to open them to see him seventeen years old and DRIVING! And no, I'm not talking about a Tonka truck or his green PlaySkool mini van (which he totally loved, don't let him deny it). I'm talking about a real, grown up car. On a recent trip home, I had the experience of riding with Ryan, and while he did a great job driving, I was totally freaked out that the little kid from the green plastic mini van is now driving on highways at 70 miles per hour. So just a word to the wise, if you're in the Houston area, watch out for a silver Toyota 4-Runner.
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