Oh, how I wish I had a scanner. I could show you all some glorious pictures.
Like how when she was four and we all carried her on our hip like a baby. It's no wonder she thinks it is still acceptable to sit on people's laps.
Or at Candice's wedding she dropped her flowers and got on all fours to clean them up. I don't think she quite understood that was the point of being a flower girl, but whatevs.
Cynthia is the most special person in the world. Outside of our family, there are only a handful of people who really understand her. She's a mystery that I don't think God wants any one of us to solve. I'm pretty sure he thinks it is funnier to watch us attempt to figure her out. And to be honest, it is kind of funny. I mean, she knows more cuss words than most truck drivers, and uses them frequently. (I should point out that our family did not teach her these. She goes to public school, so that should explain it.) Out of all the nasty things she says, my favorite is definitely "cat poop". I mean seriously. What is that all about? Who knows, but it's better than her dropping a slew of four letter words and then giving me the finger. And it drives my dad crazy, and what siblings don't enjoy irritating their parents? Weirdos, that's who.
She can also tell when people are being rude to her. So don't do it. First off, it's not nice. And secondly, more than anything in this world, she needs compassion. She is fighting a tough battle, and it's unfair to her for you to sip on the haterade and judge.
Cynthia Marie, you are smarter than they give you credit for, funnier than most people would imagine, and more special to me than you know. I love you with all my heart and then some.
(No, that's not a typo. That's how sissy says my name. It's endearing, but at the same, why does she have to call me by my full name? I always feel like I'm in trouble...)