My sisters are older than I am. I watched them as boys walked and drove by our house. I listened as they called them on the phone and tattled when they went over their phone time limit. I watched them as they put their hair in pin curls or really big curlers at night.

But always my favorite time was watching them get ready for dates. They would shower and put on their underclothes and sit on a stool in front of the mirror (in their slip) and fix their hair. Mother limited the amount of makeup they could wear so they put on the maximum that she would allow (not much, just lipstick I think).

When the doorbell rang (not one of us could date a boy that honked his horn for us to run out. They MUST come to the door) My sisters slipped on their dresses and put their heels on. That gave daddy enough time to greet the young men and approve of their plans for the evening but not enough time for daddy to get their life plans.

Out to the living room my sisters would go. A short talk with my parents and a reminder to them to be home by ____.

I thought my sisters were beautiful. I would go into their room. Mess with their makeup, try on their clothes and try walking in their shoes. More than one I was caught by my parents and they "allowed" me to do a "fashion show" for them.

Always, always, always, no matter how careful I was I would hear my sisters complain to my mom..."Mother, Mary was in my shoes AGAIN and she has ruined them. I'm never going to be able to wear them again.!"

Well, you see, the picture on the left is what my sisters looked like in their shoes. On the right you will see my clunky size 6w in their 7AA with AAA heal.

Now my beautiful sisters, one has had double knee replacement and the other wears orthopedic shoes!

Love you, Sisters, ya wanna see my new heals?