We already have one of those

I think the easiest thing and hardest thing about my growing up years was being Marianne's little sister.  It was easy to be her little sister because I had a stellar example to follow.  I had a built in friend and confidant.  She taught me many things and discouraged me from bad fashion choices (just not often enough--photographic evidence proves that.)

On the downside, she was all that and a bag of chips in our little town and I was her little sister and that's about it.  She was everything I was not...outgoing, tall, popular, athletic, successful in every little thing she tried.

I was...wait for it...her little sister.

Our mom, of course, because that's her job, told me that I had my Things I Was Good At too.

(Oh yeah?  What?)

She assured me they were there.

I was pretty sure she was just saying that.

One day, at parent teacher conferences, Mr. Swabb, the history/government teacher, told my parents that he wished I was more like Marianne.  (Get in line buddy, we all do.)

He said, "Marianne made more comments in class.  She'd argue with me and debate.  I wish Thelma was more like that."

If my mom wasn't already Mother of the Year in my eyes, she earned it in her response, she said, "We already have a Marianne.  We want a Thelma."

My mom saw something.  She saw value.  It took me awhile to come around to her way of thinking and see it for myself.  You can bet your bottom dollar that I hung onto my mom's words though.  She didn't want me to be like Marianne.  She loved Marianne as much as the next guy...probably more...but she wanted me to be me.

I did too.