My two best friends in the whole world were Ginny Maxwell and my brother, Joseph. Joseph and I had endured Zara’s torture our entire lives, but he had the luxury of one year on me. As the middle child, it was my brother who protected me from the worst of our sister’s tantrums and wiped away my tears when all I wanted in the world was a big sister to play with. He sat with me for dozens of tea parties, wore princess tiaras and pink nail polish, and he always let me have the prize in the cereal box.
An Irresponsible Streak
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