Drama queen

In Russia pretty much every kid was pushed into gymnastics.  When I was old enough, my parents signed me up and I loved it and hated it, depending on what day it was.

Some days I couldn't wait to get to class.  I loved learning hand stands and cartwheels.  I loved getting the extra energy out after school; and boy did I have extra energy and then some.  Then there were the days that the instructors would force us just a little bit farther than my stubborn self was willing to go.  On those days I would throw a huge fit and storm out.  I was so dramatic.  I would tell everyone that I was there by choice and that they couldn't make me do anything I didn't want to do.  I threw my little hands up in the air and swore that I would never come back.   Then I would run outside and sit on the curb, huffing and puffing, until my mom would pick me up.

The following week my parents would drop me off at gymnastics again and I would walk in, my head low.  My instructors would just smile their snarky little smiles to themselves and go on with their days.   This happened at least once a month.

But that's got nothing to do with this picture.  This picture is about my sister and me.  See, in gymnastics I learned how to do a back bend.  I was very proud.  My parents would ask me to do it as entertainment for their friends.  My sister always watched me and, the copy cat that she was, she tried to do it too.  But she wasn't in gymnastics yet and so she didn't actually know how.  But it was a good try.  And a pretty good indication of much she adored me.  And I adore her.  To this day.