She rocks her birthright

Two days ago, I was nine and my oldest sister was getting married. And just yesterday, I was 10, my oldest sister had a baby, and I became a first-time aunt. Then somehow, that baby grew into a 15-year-old overnight and today she wears a bra, talks about boys and, oh yeah, and she's taller than me.
One of my first memories as an aunt was when Celia was about three. She was sitting on the bathroom sink while I brushed her hair into pigtails. She caught my eye in the mirror and asked, "Aunt Emily, did you buy your dress from Gap?" One glistening tear slide down my cheek and I crushed her to my chest as if I had birthed her myself.

At the reunion, the scene repeated itself, only this time instead of pigtails, I was hot rolling her tresses into a Farrah do, though she insisted that flat hair is in right now. She asked me about my Chi and I would have crushed her to my chest as if I had birthed her myself (for noticing the wonder that is my straightener), but she probably would have died a thousand deaths at being hugged by her aunt. Gross. So instead, she sat in teenage silence as I gabbed away about really important issues: volumizer, Spanx, and nude heels.

My sister promises to send her to visit me soon and I've already got the feather hair extensions ready to go, made my shopping list for XXI, and practiced my SMS language. LOL, K?

In the meantime, here she is....that gorgeous little minx. I don't think her mother would appreciate me calling her a minx. BUT her mother didn't appreciate me feeding her chocolate cake when she was 3 months either. Why stop the beat now?