I’ve been sick for a couple of days.

I was considering taking some medicine, which typically I don’t do.  At all.

But, I’m breastfeeding.  So, I text my sister, who at that point might have been wishing she had not gone to medical school but rather pursued a career making edible lip gloss, to see if she could find out if this medicine was safe for me to take.

She looked it up and got back to me right away.

She’s a great sister.  You can’t have her.

She’s not that great though.  Because she told me I couldn’t take it.

Okay.   Maybe that’s not really her fault.

But, she is a fantastic doctor.

Because I found that texting her helped take my mind off how awful I was feeling.

So, really she’s just great medicine.

You still can’t have her.  She’s my only sister.

So, while laying in bed, which I don’t do well, I have been texting her from time to time.

She’ll be so relieved when I’m feeling better, get back to my busy life, and leave her alone.  She has a life, too.

But while I was lying around, I realized …

It would have been so great if she and I had had cell phones to text with when we were growing up!

We shared a bedroom.  And after we went to bed we would talk.  I can still hear my father calling from the living room, “Girls.  Stop talking and go to sleep.”

I’m sure these conversations were very important.

I’m certain they couldn’t have taken place earlier or the following day.

If only we had had cell phones.

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