when i was but a lass i shared a room with my darling older sister. she was my hero, she was everything i wished i could beeee, and i could fly higher than an eagle, cause she was the wind beneath my wings....
one thing i admired was her brains. another thing was her self-awareness. and another thing was her audacity to use and abuse the prowess of her age and wisdom on her well intending and ADORAble younger sister, i.e. ME. i would venture a guess that on an average of 5 nights a week as we drifted off to the visionary land of sugar plums, i would get the massage request. she was so sneaky at it. with the pillow smushed against her ample cheek, she would begin her back pain campaign.
"my back hurts so bad. i had to like, run to school today with my math book AND my social science book in my backpack. i am sooooo sore."
"but lizzy, i'm almost asleep."
"just 5 minutes...pleeeease? i'll give you a massage for 10 minutes when you're through."
*note: my back was in near perfect condition. i pin it on the 4 months of ballet classes i whined through as a 5 year old, but my posture was flawless and my back never bothered me, nary a twinge. therein lies the sneakiness of elizabeth. she knew to promise me something that wouldn't hurt or help me, so if she never paid up i wouldn't really care.
"but i don't need a massage, elizabeth."
"i promise it'll be good for you. loosen up the muscles. my back hurts, come on."
in the end, i would climb over from my trundle bed to hers, and 5 minutes would inevitably turn into 20, by which time elizabeth would have hit a heavy REM cycle, from which even a fog horn could not wake her. and i wouldn't really mind, because i hadn't really cared for a massage when my muscles were never tight to begine with. i was happy to oblige deep down, despite my complaints, because she was my hero, and she let me tag along ad nauseum et infinitum.
i figure she owes me a good 390 hours of massages.
i climbed 200 vertical stairs then a mountain to return to our parked car on this last saturday's beach excursion. this with a purse and a beach bag beladen with trashy magazines and an idiotic vampire book and a 7-11 purchase, now that can tighten a muscle or 2. and i have some belongings left behind in vegas that i definitely have not forgotten.
elizabeth, consider the massage debts called in!