I am not

I am not a writer. My sister is a writer. She will cringe at my bad grammar and poor writing and crappy sentence structure – phrases that are not complete sentences - and terrible punctuation; and careless sppellling if she reads this. I probably won’t tell her about it. She is a far better writer. She is prettier and smarter and thinner and more talented and more successful and funnier too. I should tell her, now that I have written that. We aren’t the sort of people who actually give each other personal compliments like that. We aren’t huggers either. I might say “Nice sweater” and she might tell me that her friend liked my artwork. I’d never tell her all that good stuff to her face. But she is a great writer. She is a real writer. I am proud of my sister.