Long ago I had a baby sister, Linda. Linda has been my baby sister all of her life. It is just how I think of her.
It is how I talk of her. My baby sister Linda this. My baby sister Linda that. So when does she stop being my baby sister?
I am frosting her cake and thinking - is this when I stop? When she turns 50?
Yes, blow out those candles, but it changes nothing.
Do what you have done for 50 years - lick the candles as you take them off the cake.
Isn't it a pretty cake for your 50th? A three-color cake. I have never made one of these for anyone else. No one. Just for your, my baby sister.
We have even imported a violinist (Great-nephew) to play the song.
We almost forgot the special wardrobe. I don't think I got this for my fiftieth birthday. Just you, my baby sister.
Oh, and I can see you are wearing my scarf that I gave you for your birthday.
Just for you, the baby of the family who gets everything. Mom and I were talking about when she "kicks the bucket" as she puts it. I was telling her that all I want are her two bird bed spreads. And she said that I can't have them because, and why am I not surprised? - They are yours!!!!!!