One can’t have too many sisters ... unless you’re all sharing a bathroom.
Lucky me, I had one who coulda been my twin *ducking* and one who looked at me as if I were something on her shoe, and one who looked at me with stars in her eyes.
We’re all on speaking terms. (Well, except for the eldest: she doesn’t know I was something on her shoes. I’m a stranger, now. And maybe that’s good.)