I think sometimes we act like we hate each other.
You like to stick your pink tongue out at me.
You stamp your foot to the ground and storm out.
The door slams like a thunder clap.
You love to act like I am your worst enemy. You tell me I am the most horrible person you have
ever met in your entire life.
You go to your room. I follow.
I open the door and you throw a sock at me.
You wish that I would go away.
The cat sneaks into your room and you pet his back.
I know you don’t mean this momentary madness.
You start to smile, and as I suspected, you’re not truly angry.
You walk across the tan carpet to hug me. I can smell the laundry detergent on your clothes.
The hug feels like a warm blanket.
You say “Please don’t be mad at me”
But I would never be mad at my sister. I love her too much for that.