every little thing in the world is beatiful...



I remember when we were little. It was in the summertime, it was hot and Cody and I were out of school. Hagan was eight. I remember pulling Hagan to my room and saying, "want to play big kid games?"  He nodded eagerly and smiled his baby smile. Then I was twelve, and Cody was fifteen. I told Cody my game plan and he laughed and watched. I took out all my makeup stuff and layed it out on my My Little Pony bedspread.

I put on some foundation, lipstick, then some eyeliner. I applied eyeshadow and mascara and blush and lip gloss. I slid on some dangly earrings and a long, lopey blue dress. I brushed Hagan's hair and he let me put him in a suit (he wasn't such a brat then) and I told him that he'd look cute with mascara on his already-llama-lashes.

I let him stand on a step stool and brush my hair (it was long then) and spray Cody's cologne all over him. He stood up straight and looked in a mirror. "Why don't I look like you?" He asked quietly. "Why is my hair yellow? Why is my skin darker? Why are my eyes bluer? Why don't we look the same?"

I sighed. "We do. But on the inside."

-Worst Summer Ever