I happen to be 63 so she is a much older sister. And I remind her of that every chance I get.
Carol is the sister with whom I made mud pies and with whom I shared a room when we were growing up.
She was always petite and small-boned while I was the big, strapping girl. I was taller and heavier as far back as I can remember. As younger sisters often do, I annoyed her greatly. We would get into physical scrapes. My mom told me more than once that I had to be careful with Carol. I was so much bigger than she was and I could really hurt her. Couldn’t my mom see that Carol was like a bantam rooster, fierce, stubborn and relentless? And that she had the upper hand in almost every dispute?