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Jason recommends the album, Wreck Of The Day by Anna Nalick

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June 23, 2002 // 8:10 a.m. // The sweetest of 16's (or how to embarrass family)

Nobody updates or reads Diaryland on the weekend. So I decided that I'm not going with my 'A game' on Saturday and Sunday.

Which is why I give you this. (Well, that, and I can't stand having last night's entry up as my most recent)

My sister is 16 today.

It didn't hit me until just a few minutes ago. What did I get her as a gift? Well, while my mom had her back to me and was kissing and singing to her, I waited until she could see me in the hall and flipped her off.

I thought it was hilarious. Especially since my mom couldn't see. And of course my sister tattled on me.

I've been thinking about the day she was born, because although I was only four, I remember it well and the details...

I had spent the day at my aunt's house, who herself had just given birth to a baby boy almost four months earlier. I remember sitting on the floor and playing with toy cars. I remember thinking the drive was long, though it couldn't have been more than a half hour. I can also remember being quite bored. Even as a child I realized that putting me in front of a box of toy cars for a day couldn't keep me entertained.

I'm thinking now that I should have brought a book, not a stuffed animal.

But it's late, and my dad comes back to pick me up. We take the long ride to the hospital (after stopping at a McDonalds, likely the one across the street) and I see my new sister for the first time. Amelia Paige (yeah, my dad got to name this one. Don't ask.) is just a few hours old.

She's in my mom's right arm. Quiet. Barely awake. And in my little four year-old head, I figure she's hungry, right? I mean, she's been in someone's stomach for nine months, I'd be starving. And what I did next is one of the classic Jason stories of all time.

I gave her a french fry. Her first food was actually a french fry. Or at least as much of one as a three or four hour old child can eat.

I think it's his roots as an urban person in rural Utah that explains his reason for naming her Amelia Paige. Amelia for Amelia Earhart. Paige for a cousin. Not to mention the fact that no one in the immediate family ever pronounces her name correctly, including me, the parents and herself. We always say, "Uh-Mil-yuh." It's terrible. Of course, everyone else says, "Ay-Mee-Lee-uh."

Knowing these things would really make the story of my name pale in comparison, actually. And cousin Paige's story is even more entertaining, I promise. Maybe another time?

Jason

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