In family Survior, if there was such a thing, I would be the second one to be voted off. My mom would be first--because after a xanaxless night, she'd beg us to let her get home to her heating pad and Pepsi. My brother Danny SHOULD be voted off second--when asked to clean a chair off, he brought a wet towel and a bottle of dish soap (to pour on the chair). Charles would beat Dan, but stubborn Katie and stubborn Dad would fight for the championship. Ultimately Katie would triumph. I can imagine few things that would get between Katie and the million dollars. She'd deserve it though, darn it. She'd deserve it. Katie would invest her millions smartly and she'd be able to calculate how much she was earning at all times of the day. She'd still hunt through weekly grocery store ads and poor Lance would still have to drink Dr. Bold and eat no-name saltines.
Katie is my 25 year old, 5 foot 4, hundred pound, younger sister. Katie is the kind of sister that always saved some of her Easter treats in her drawer. A few days later when my Easter candy was long gone, Katie would happen to cross my path with a Cadbury egg in hand. She's also the kind of sister that saw my less-than-par quiz that was accidentally left on the kitchen counter and asked, in utter shock, 'Mom, was Jayne mad about this?' In 8th grade, when my algebra had stumped mom and dad and left me in tears, Katie came to the rescue citing that she could help me as she'd "Learned that in her 6th grade math class today!"
Katie knows what she wants and she'll find a way to get it. When buying a dress for the homecoming dance, DC Cutter just didn't have what it took. Katie made up a pattern and made her sparkling blue dress. When Pottery Barn had canvas paintings on sale for a few hundred dollars, Katie painted her own canvas paintings. This is my sister Katie.
"I like your haircut Jayne, who did it for you?"
"Katie cuts hair?"
"Well, yes. Katie cuts hair."
"Katie, did you get new curtains?"
"Oh I just made those yesterday when it was too bright in Atticus's room."
"Look, I've made some baby shoes out of felt. Will you see if they fit Parley?"
"Tell Hazel I made some brown bread for her this morning."
"Katie, don't tell me you made this stained glass cover for your entryway table."
"Yes, do you like it?"
I tell you, this is Katie. It is bazaar but true. She does everything and while she does it, her house sparkles and she's painted her cupboards. She can be ready in 5 minutes--but you wish your hair looked like hers. She's finished her Pilates and is ready for a rigourous walk.
Now before you (grandma, mom, Jed) call me and remind me of my 'neat' qualities, understand that I'd rather you take me to dinner. No, scratch that, just know that I am OKAY. I am used to being the Jan of the Brady's, watching as Marsha (you know who) steals the show. Actually, I've said it once and I'll say it again, there are some real benefits to not being talented. You'll never hear my dad asking me to sew blue tarps into scooter covers or using all my time to play barber on Sunday nights. Katie always gets the assignment when we're aching for a cookie or cinnamon rolls (or both--just say the word). Actually, I benefit from Katie's abilities too. I don't go to any store without her these days. Katie can round up Hazel much faster than I can. So please, before you start feeling bad for me, be glad for me. I will NEVER sew up Danny's Jeep. (But if you just can't help yourself from feeling bad, I have been dying to go to the Olive Garden.)
I'll admit it, it's tough being 7 houses away from Queen Katie. My unorganized messes must scream out like my unfortunate quiz of the past, 'HELP Katie! Save your older sister from destruction!!' But I'll tell you one thing, I'm happy everyday to see her and walk a few paces behind her on the rigorous walk.