So the kiddo celebrates a birthday this week. Her fourth. She has very specific ideas regarding how she wants to celebrate this one. Though I’d suggested an ice cream cake, the kiddo insists it will be a yellow cake, with yellow frosting. And blue candles. Surrounded with plenty of balloons. And hats. Her one gift request has had me in a bit of a tizzy. It’s this:
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A bulbasaur. From Pokemon. A series that I find unwatchable, with it’s bad animation and drawing quality chief among my complaints. However, I am amused to notice that the kiddo’s favorite pokemon, the one she loves to imitate every day, has a neat little trick. It “evolves”…the bud on its back blooms into two other stages,flowering and giving it power to manipulate nature, evidently. And this is what the kiddo loves to imitate in her play…”evolving”. She’ll poke me several times a day, drop to the ground or flop on the bed, and announce “I’m evolving”, while her body quivers and shakes in imaginary transformation. Which is rather Aquarian of her.
Since this line of toys is retired and Bulbasaur is apparently still a highly sought out collectible, it’s been a bitch to obtain. I turned to Ebay, natch. It’s not terribly expensive, however, I’m not used to competition in the bidding process. I’ve been through five auctions and have been beaten out four times before finally winning the prize. Oh well.
I stayed up last night doing something I don’t usually do: watched the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. I was up with a project and noticed that Diane Keaton was on. With pictures of her adorable fat dog, whom she’d run over once accidently in her driveway. Miraculously, he’d emerged unscathed because his fat protected his bones from breaking.
Every time I see Diane Keaton, I’m struck by how much my sister T resembles her, both physically and in demeanor. I’d never thought of T. that way until I’d seen Keaton in Something’s Gotta Give ( unfortunately, I didn’t care for the film, which was rare for me and a Keaton flick). Then it all unfolded in front of me. The flittering conversation where the subject changes like shifting bird flight patterns. The airy hand gesticulations. And the girlish embarrassment. Definitely a T. trait. T’s always, always been that way…even through an excruciatingly heavy and emotionally wrought childhood; even with a demanding job and four children…T. can still be described as lightness in every way. I have never possessed that lightness. I carry everything. I was sullen girl from the cradle. If I had friends, T. made them first. Then I’d come around and kind of…approve and hang out on the fringe, feigning disinterest in anything unless I was in charge.
I don’t know where I’m going with this, except that it’s good to be T, who I know is blushing, then sheepishly grinning and looking away while she’s reading this. Aren’t you, T?

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