My older younger sister is tougher than me.

Maybe I should explain that sentence. I have two sisters who are 18 and 10, so one is “older younger”  and one is “younger younger.”

But back to the point, my older younger sister is tougher than me. I took karate for four years, but she can probably kick my butt.

I’m not afraid to admit that. My sister is a bit of a tomboy. She’s like a female version of Hillary Clinton … she could probably take down most of the guys I know.

She just had the audacity to criticize my man-smell as I was holding a can of Axe. I sprayed it on her and her Cheerios.

“Stop! I don’t want to smell like a boy!”

I found that ironic. My sister spent more time outside as a child than I spent asleep. She rides horses, plays with chickens and spent two years of high school in agronomy.

I still don’t know what agronomy is, but she definitely always smelled more “like a boy” than I did.

My sister started full-time college at Crowder last semester and puts in about 30-40 hours a week at the Walmart deli. I struggle with balancing school and my 20-hours-a-week job, so I don’t know how she does it. Every night she’s either working or doing homework, and I never see her being lazy.

The weirdest thing is that I’ve never heard her complain once. I mean, I’d be complaining if I worked that hard. Since she doesn’t read the newspaper, I’ll say I’m proud of her.

Even if she had a puppy dog tail or two thrown in, she’s still got the sugar, spice and everything nice. I’m just not crazy about the smell.