One likes pink and the other blue. One prefers vanilla milk and the other chocolate. One loves taking baths while the other prefers a shower. One is a verbal wonder while the other struggles with speech, but can probably dismantle (and reassemble) the television.
They both love horses and princesses and lollipops. They like to pick flowers and squirt each other (and me) with the hose. They love their cats and books. One’s hair is wiry and wild while the other’s is fine and pin-straight. They both have huge eyes and thick lashes, but different eye colors.
Sometimes they fight.
Sometimes, the fights turn physical. They slap, bite and pull hair. They kick, punch, push and pinch until the nearest adult comes running.
They are at times so different. But at others, it’s as plain as day that they have the same genes swirling in their cells, the same blood pumping through their veins.
Today, they lay next to each other on the floor, staring at the ceiling and tittering. I’m not sure what the joke was about; they wouldn’t tell me.
“It’s a joke only for sisters,” said the elder, sitting up to face me.
“Yeah, just sisters,” the younger concurred, joining her sister in a seated position.
The older threw her arm around the shoulder of her younger sibling and together they collapsed back onto their backs in a fit of giggles.
They share blood and genes and a bond that I hope is never broken. Sisters. Friends. Forever.