My Sista

Hello, this is Miss A.F.!
     First, I would like to state that my bleak mood has passed, and I'm good. (Just in case y'all were wondering)
    
     Okay, I have this sister. She's seven years younger than I am. She listens to Hannah Montana. She dances and sings and reminds one of a certain Saturday Night Live character. She speaks three notches louder than anyone else, and does concerts in front of the bathroom mirror. She's melodramatic to the core, and can turn on tears faster 'n you can blink. She asks you a question, and before you can answer, answers herself. A typical conversation goes like this:
 
     "Hey, Leah, what are you doin'?" "I'm trying to--" "You're finishing you're drawing! Yay! I finished a drawing just a second ago, it was a turtle with a crown, it looks like the turtle we saw at the walking trail. I like the walking trail because there are turtles, have you ever seen frogs there? I saw one in our yard, I almost stepped on it, I didn't. But once, I stepped on a beetle. I hate beetles. I think there was one in the bathtub once. I took a bath this morning and there was a spider, and mom had to get it out, and I took a bubble bath. Now I smell good, smell my arm." *shoves fore arm under my nose* "See? I used the new body wash, it smells like the water melon gum you got. I like gum. Once, I even liked gum so much, I got it in my hair and we had to put peanut butter in it. It was gross. Oooh, hey, look! I found a bead! Can I have it?" "Well, sure-hey, don't touch that!" "What? Oh, this? Sorry." *sets my paintbrushes down* "Hey, Leah, can I have a hug?"

Off to play Monopoly Jr.,
Miss Artsy Fartsy, the one with the psychotic sister