Lord Help The Sister...

My step-sister is coming into town tomorrow. She is super-de-duper young (17) and we don't really know each other. I was told that she has a new boyfriend that she will be missing with the intensity of a hormonal high school junior (often compared to convection within the sun) and that she needs "big sistering."

This sounds like a recipe for fucking disaster.

I am struck by a few things. First of all, we don't really know each other that well. I never lived with her, and have only SEEN her about twelve times during our parent's marriage. She's nice and funny, and has grown out of her annoying phase. That's all I know. I know that she likes to "tie one on," as the kids say, and that she watches her friends play poker a lot. She is also on the drill team. I know her name, too. That's about it.

She'll be missing her boyfriend?! I can only picture the forlorn glances out the restaurant window as I order a hamburger with cheese. "That's his favorite food," she'd say, the world weighing heavily on her slim little shoulders. And the rest of the day I will have to supress the urge to smack her on the head when she sighs. Fantastic.

There's something bigger here that concerns me, though. "She needs big sistering." What in the good Lord's name does that mean? She needs a stern talking to? Or the aforementioned smack in the head? Does she need to talk about stuff? All of a sudden I feel like a new father trying to change a diaper when he's never even seen the things before. How does this shit work?

I am the youngest of the family. I have an older sister, but no one after me. I'm the cute one who had relaxed versions of our parents, free from the tyranny and youth of what everyone else got. I get pampered and called "Peaches and Cream" when I'm having a bad day. My momma sends me presents just because.

I am not sure I know what it's like to be anyone else in the family, where they have to set an example and pass on knowledge and stuff. How do you be an older sibling just like that?

I am kind of nervous now. What am I getting myself into? Will Yoda (that's her nickname) hate my bathroom? Will she sleep well on my futon? Is she going to return to Dallas despising me and wishing she had spent the week making out with her man instead? Will I live up to expectations and give my dad a moment's peace?

I don't know. I thought we could go do some Drag Bingo, see some flicks, go on a studio tour, explore the Universal backlot, and go to the beach. I figure that we could even get some henna tattoos. Go to the gym. Eat some ice cream. Talk about boys and our period and how lame parents are. Is that going to be enough? Or, will The Mighty G, in a moment of thoughtless hilarity, make some anal rape joke and terrify her?

I guess we'll see. I was hoping that by the end of the trip I would feel as though we've bonded and that we hold someplace special in each other's hearts. Maybe then she wouldn't be my STEP sister. Perhaps, in our time spent having fun and chatting over mochachinos, we could really make some magic happen. If she wants to spend every waking second either on the phone or sleeping, then I suppose the pressure to be a gracious hostess is off. That'd be sweet.

sisters, sisters. g