Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday B-SSSSSSSS, Happy Birthday to you! YAY!!!!!
It's Barbie's birthday, and BS stands for: big sister-
On this day it is *not* traditional to eat corned beef and cabbage, rather sweet and sour pork with frozen fruit salad (a whippy frozen concoction made with love, miracle whip, fruit cocktail, mini marshmellows and other mysterious things...), topped off with cake that looks like Irish Spring soap and/or creme de menthe parfaits. There should be snow- it seems that it always snowed on St. Patrick's day back in Johnstown- a late white fluff among the first sprigs of green. There should be green minty milkshakes at McDonalds, girl scout cookies and gold at the end of every rainbow.
I love my big sister. When I was little she was this beautiful girl with boyfriends and dates, the golden pinto car, short skirts (and this one memorable Easter hat with an upturned brim), long phone calls and visits to the Rigo's across the street. She went to high school but worked downtown at the stock exchange- which I visualized as a type of Mary-Tyler-Moore TV show situation. She can type faster than anyone I know and knew the mysterious language of shorthand.
As an adult, she is a beautiful woman with a heart of gold. Nostalgic but realistic, she touches the past and lives in the present. She cares about the good things and the small things- her Thomas, our family, animals, elders, people who are hurt and confused about the circumstances of their lives. Her house is a home- welcoming, beautiful, loving. God lives in her heart, her actions, her soul, and she is a blessing to my spirit.
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