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Little sis Big sis and Me
Little sis, Big sis, and Me “Joey, are you down there?” asked my sister. “I’ve lost my baton. Have you seen it downstairs in the basement?” Turning, I saw Aimie slowly descending the steep steps leading down into our dimly-lit basement. At 16 years of age, Aimie was my idea of a female she-devil come to life. The irritating child was a constant, thorny aggravation in my side. The two of us often fought like cats and dogs, or more precisely, like brothers and sisters. “No, Missy...