AND I'LL NAME HER FLUFFY!

I get done at my mom's and get dropped off at my sister's tonight around 9:30-ish. My sister has very apparently been drinking wine. An hour and a half later we go outside to have a cigarette before she goes to bed.

Before I tell this, I just have to say that my sister and I used to HATE each other and beat the shit out of each other as kids. We bonded somewhat after I graduated from high school and then became super close after I moved to Arizona the first time. I love her to death and hate that we live so far apart. She always makes me laugh and you will now see why.

So we go outside around 11 PM and she's pretty tipsy at this point. We're talking about life and my grandma and her funeral and things, and just Heidi gets the hiccups, which gets us both giggling. I then comment that I can tell I've gained weight since being back here. The following is the conversation that ensued.

Heidi: YOU'VE gained weight? (hiccup) I gained 3 pounds! (Please note that my sister is beautiful and thinner than I've ever seen her and I wish I could afford plastic surgery to look like her dark-haired twin). Look at my roll! (She squeezes the tiniest amount of skin...her hiccup is bigger than her roll.

Heather (sober): Whatever, that's just my top roll! This is my bottom roll! (I squeeze bottom roll).

Heidi won't look at me, but hiccups and it echoes into the night. I squeeze again for emphasis, but she's staring at a bush in her yard.

Heather: You're a pussy!

Heidi continues to stare at the bush and hiccup.

Heather: Did you hear me? You're a pussy!

Heidi: Ewwwwwwww.

Heather: What, my roll?

Heidi: No, that word. I hate that word.

Heather: You realize I'm basically calling you a weanie for not looking at my roll.

Heidi: I know, but I just hate the word pussy. (hiccup. hack. hack)

Heather: Well I love that word. I LOVE double consenants. They make words sound fluffy!

Heidi: Now THAT'S a good word...fluffy. That's what you should call it instead!

Heather: Call your coo your"fluffy"?

Heidi: Yes, I'm going to call it fluffy. It's my fluffy now!

Heather: That's stupid.

Heidi: My fluffy. That's my fluffy. (double hiccup)

Heather: Do you realize that every year I come back here, we have at least one conversation on your porch where you're drunk? Do you remember the can with eyes last year? Do you?

Heidi: Blahahahaha!

Heather: You're so funny. You're a nerd.

Heidi: This is totally off the subject, (hiccup) but did you know we have two Lisa's at work? (hack. hack.) There's Lisa Simpson and Lisa Hanson, and I will walk between their offices and yell "Lisa-Lisa and the Cult Jam! Oooo baby, I think I love you...from head to toe." (this is a bad 80's song my sister and I used to dance to in junior high).

Heather: What? You are so drunk!

Heidi: (hack. hack. hiccup.) (Singing) Don't call me names, don't laugh at me...

Heather: What?

Heidi: It's a country song. Don't call me names, don't laugh at me. Did you know I gained four pounds this weekend?

Heather: You said it was three, and yes, you told me like ten minutes ago.

Heidi: Blahahahahaha! Don't call me names, don't laugh at me...

I sit staring at her kind of chuckling.

Heidi: I'm so drunk. I'm going to feel like shit tomorrow. Like a turd that hmlflmadabada.

Heather: Like a turd that what?

Heidi: (double hiccup) Blahahahahaha. Like a turd that got ran over by a truck. I'm a big ol' flat turd. You better not write a Chronicles about this! (five minute hacking attack hits and she's bent over in her rocker No matter what they say. Don't call me names, don't laugh at me.

I am now laughing really hard, and then it happens. I tinkled.

Heather: Shit! I just tinkled myself.

Heidi: Don't call me namesssss. Don't laugh at me...