We've been compared often, Brenda and myself. My attitude-full aunt has been my role model these 24 years complete, and I used to be a little afraid of her. She liked it that way. She liked having the power to make someone cry just by looking at them. I coveted that kind of power.

Now, either she's mellowed or I've sharpened (or a bit of both), but the scales balance differently these days.

The coffeemaker, toaster, and drug-drawer all exist in a tight little nook in our kitchen. The other morning, I noticed some tension in the air as I entered. With a single look her way, Brenda announced that "Debbie needs to take her pills and," looking over her glasses menacingly she continued, "I told her she needs to wait until I finish buttering my toast (which isn't even toasted yet) before she comes over here." I nodded. It made sense.

I wanted coffee. I reached around Brenda, elbows in her face, to get a cup from the cupboard. I then changed direction, reaching toward the carafe of coffee. Brenda jumped back and apologized for being in my way.

I'll say that last sentence again:



Debbie looked on in awe, and Brenda twittered in disgust. A new dynasty is taking hold.