Perfect Polly

"Polly's coming to visit this weekend,"  Mama said to me when she came over to help me make my own dinner.

"Why?"

Mama squinted at me.  "Because she loves us, Fran."

Polly is my older sister, my perfect older sister.  We have never really seen eye to eye.  She was always an overacheiver while I was a screw up.

When we were in school, Polly was popular.  She was a great student, involved in a lot of activities and she went away to college.  I, meanwhile, was unpopular, a C student and had no ambition whatsoever.  I can't say Brandon was much better than me, but at least he owns a business.  What have I done?

Even as adults, Polly has had the best of me.  Because she was college educated, she got a good job.  She makes a lot of money.  She married well, a handsome guy with an equally good job.  They live several hours away in a wonderful house with a gorgous manicured garden.  Together they have two children.  They are the epitome of success.  And she has everything I would want.

Because she is so perfect we have never really gotten along, not just in childhood but now.  When I heard she was coming, I was anything but excited.  I wanted to know why she would want to come back here of all places.

"How long is she staying?"

"Just a few days.  It would be nice if you could try to be nice to her."

Oh, of course, I have to be nice to her.  Why doesn't she have to be nice to me?  It's just like Mama to take sides.

"Fine.  I'll cook dinner for her."

"Fran, you can barely cook your own dinner right now."

"I can do it."

I waved my hand.  Sore butt muscle be damned, I was going to prove I can be just as perfect as Polly by making a great dinner.