And the Winner is....

Our little Ramona & Beezus giveaway winner is...

ERIN!

Which is wonderful because she is a literacy lover!


And now the Ramona and Beezus movie review:

Do you want to see something that will make you smile? Do you want to reacquaint yourself with childhood? Do you want to be inspired to follow your dreams? Do you want to see a family successfully pull it off together? Do you want to see a sliver of swiss cheesy romance sandwiched between meaty but good-intentioned mistakes of an over imaginative 9-year old and two slices of good humor? If you answered yes to any or all of these questions, please go see the Ramona and Beezus movie.

Delightfully inclusive of vignette events from the Ramona series of books, Ramona and Beezus captures the essence of Beverly Cleary's novels. The casting is excellent, the setting and set are ideal--including the wallpaper in Ramona and Beezus's shared bedroom--and the storyline is fulfilling. Ramona's relationship with each primary character is given a chance to shine; for example her relationship with her Dad, Mom, Aunt B, school-teacher, play-mates, and of course her SISTER.




This movie is a feel good favorite that will go down as a classic in every home that cherishes the strength of family, the humor in life, the chance at a dream, and a little imagination. It's a reminder that in the ups and downs of life, the ins and outs of success and failure, a sister is an irreplacable support. So be good to your little sister who may be a huge pest and light fires and get things caught in her hair. And be kind to your older sister who is stuck with a nickname you gave her because you couldn't pronounce her whole name--it can't be worse than Beezus, and if her name is Beezus don't worry, someone like Jesus can and will still love her.

Watch the movie and let us know what you think! Go with your sister if you can...it's sooooo fun.

A Confession...

KK-

I have a confession to make. Today I ate a whole box of fruit snacks. Is that delicious or disgusting to you?

Why would I do that? Well, having a Dad as a dentist is great, except for the fact of being denied fruit snacks during your childhood. Fruit snacks fall under the category of "sticky sugars" that consequently lead to cavities.

Thus, after having such a difficult childhood without the pleasure of fruit snacks in my life, now as an adult, I lose control and binge on fruit snacks occasionally. I can down a whole box of fruit snacks in just a few minutes. Afterward, I feel satisfied, until Big D finds them empty box and reminds me that I'm growing cavities.

Ah! I just can't help it sometimes. What are your guilty food pleasures?

-Miss T

Hand-me-downs.

To She whose clothes I loved or loathed to wear,

That purple skirt. With that matching purple and white striped top. I remember Miss T, seeing you wear that outfit and thinking, “Oh I want that outfit! I want one just like it!” It didn’t occur to me to want “it” itself, because I don’t think I understood the beauty that is hand-me-downs at that point in time. I didn’t realize that likely, that outfit, along with everything else you ever wore, would be mine one day.

Oh the glory of the hand-me-down: the perfect way to stay within a budget and double the size of a wardrobe (or provide a wardrobe) instantly. The hand-me-down is what saves the parent in a multi-children family. Whatever small detriment it may contribute to the middle-child or last-child syndrome, it’s worth it. One day they’ll learn the true value of a hand-me-down, right? Even if it takes the twenty or so years until they themselves are parents.

As a recipient of many a hand-me-down, I have to say that I mostly received quality hand-me-downs. The hand-me-downs that you love. Those items that you saw an older sibling, cousin, or neighbor have, and you thought to yourself, “I could be as cool as they are if I had that same thing.” Like an amazing “It’s a jungle out there” T-shirt, or a sweet puffy purple snowsuit. Maybe that awesome Nerf gun, the single tube kind that loaded up two yellow balls max and made the popping sound when it shot out. Maybe a bike; a bike that was BIGGER than your bike, and it was a rite of passage to receive the hand-me-down gray bike called the elephant because of the trumpeting noise the brakes make. These hand-me-downs=Awesome.

Then there are those hand-me-downs that are just all wrong.

You know the kind. They are just straight up old. There are holes in it. It’s falling apart. It fits up high around the waist like pants from the 80’s (are they pants from the 80’s?). The little fabric balls are bunched up on the old nightgown; the wheels are jiggling off the roller-blades with no inner-lining anymore; the backpack has a hole in the bottom right corner and the zipper is stuck open. Yes. Those hand-me-downs are the kind that you try to hand right on down the line, as soon as possible.


And when that can’t be done, then you just loathe the days when you have to wear, or use, or see that awful hand-me-down. I didn’t have many of those from you Miss T, if any, because I can’t even think of any at this moment.

The thing about hand-me-downs is that they once belonged to one person, and now they are trying to assume a new owner. This is entirely different from buying a used car, for in that situation the car is tested and chosen specifically. Money is invested and the value of the car is a part of the bond between vehicle and owner. The fit is secure before the ownership switches over. This very “fit” is the risk you take with hand-me-downs. Rarely are hand-me-downs tried on for size. Usually a pile just shows up in front of your door. Some things fit, some do not. Ew.

Then, there are some things that fit, just differently than they ever fit their first owner.

This summer, Miss T, you have given me the ultimate hand-me-down: Dance teacher. Literally you handed down a gazillion tiny dancers who now love ballet at the Northgate Community Center, and will let me teach them classes for employment. The thing about this hand-me-down is that it was worn perfectly and with love before it was given to me. It fit its first owner magically. And now it fits me, but a little differently. I’m still growing into it. But isn’t a hand-me-down from a sister the best when she sticks around to give you fashion advice about how to wear it? Thankfully, Miss T, you are not leaving me alone to fit into this teacher business. And like that purple skirt. With that matching purple and white striped top. It will always have looked best on you first, but I too will wear it with as much love and flair as you did.

I publicly send out this thank you to all those whose hand-me-downs I have worn. And let us all hand down a quality hand-me-down to someone we love, or perhaps more importantly to someone who loves us. For it will mean the most to them.

With Love, she who wears your clothes, still.

11 miles + 27 weeks pregnant = CRAZY

KK -

Last weekend, we went on another Pickett Family Adventure. We traveled 64 miles by car and 6 miles by Ferry to the Dungeness Spit off of the Olympic Peninsula. We then hiked along this natural sand bar for 5.5 miles to a beautiful old lighthouse. Along the way, we saw at least 100 seagulls, had over 1,000 rocks to throw into the ocean, and passed 16 fresh crab shells. Our #1 T Bear was trooper and walk for 1/2 mile, but rode for the majority in his carrier on Big D's back. It was a beautiful day for a hike along the ocean. But it was 11 miles round trip and I am 27 weeks pregnant. Call me crazy, because Big D practically had to drag me the last 2 miles back to the car. My hips were done. As I dramatically dragged my swollen body to the end, a mom with 3 kids in sandals heading to play on the beach, said "How fun! We are on a hike!" Was she mocking me? Or did she consider the 1/2 mile trail to the beach a real hike?

In the end, it was concluded that it was 1 beautiful day. Plus we planned another family adventure in 10 years. The lighthouse has families come and volunteer to take care of the lighthouse for a week at a time. The current family had 3 teenage boys. They had only been there for 4 hours and 1 of the boys was already bored to death. We laughed because we think it would be a great place to get away from the world for 1 week. Hopefully he survives.


-Miss T

First SISTERS Event

It is time for our first SISTERS event on our blog. Amidst our rambling blogs to each other, we hope to celebrate Sisterhood in its many forms. Today the movie, Ramona & Beezus opens in theaters. We have very fond memories reading the Ramona & Beezus books by Beverly Cleary.

KK - "I remember being introduced to the Beverly Cleary section at the Ada County Library.
When I first saw the book called Ramona Age Eight, I also had a short bob haircut, (with mousy brown hair that was relentlessly straight unless Miss T fixed it up for me), was somewhere near the age of eight, and I knew I had found my new best friend. Ramona seemed to think and do things I thought and did, or if I didn't, then I then wanted to think and do those same things. One day, when I was hanging around in my role model's room, yes Miss T that's you, being the pest of a little sister that Ramona was to Beezus, I found a secret stash of books on her water bed shelf! Yes, there was a Ramona book there. I think I hadn't realized until that moment, that my sister also read those amazing books. She went up a notch in my eyes that day, as if she could get any higher, and I would wager it safe to say I borrowed that book and read it within the next two days. That's how classically good the Ramona and Beezus books are."

In honor of such fun stories about two great sisters, we are giving away a set of 4 books from the Ramona series. Can you believe it? How fun would it be to win?Here is how we are doing it. Make a comment on our blog. It can be on any of our blogs thus far, OR share your favorite memory of Ramona and Beezus on this blog. The winner will be randomly chosen--no judging of your comment. If you have previously commented, you are already entered TWICE as a small token of our appreciation for your early support of our brand new blog.

Are you more like Ramona or Beezus?

Have you ever met anyone named Ramona or Beezus?

Are you going to see the movie?

We are planning on seeing the movie, but this weekend we are not in the same state, so you will have to wait until next weekend to read our review of the movie. It will be good!

So jump in! Tell your friends! Tell your daughters! Tell your SISTERS!! There is a giveaway on this blog. What would you do with the books if you won? Read them, give them away as a gift to a new reader, donate them, or take them with you to the movie to look really enthused. Plus, you would just be so proud you won something from a blog giveaway!

We will announce the winner on Friday July 30th!

Have a great SISTERS weekend. And remember "A little sister goes a long way."

C is for Cookie. And C- Creative.

Hey Miss T,

I know your initials have now been TCP for over four years, but I know that we both will always be happy that you retain the "C" in your name, no matter how good your new last name is. After all, it is the C that stands for CREATIVE in the Cutler family mission statement. Because of that mission statement I will admit that I find each of the Cutler siblings to be rather creative. In fact, recently we had some evidence of that Creative C. It also lined right up with our Sesame Street friend's declaration "C is for Cookie!"

Just days ago, the soon-to-be-annual Cutler Cookie bake-off was held for the first time! Under the creative inspiration of the eldest Cutler brother, the terms and conditions of the competition were set:
1. Boys vs. Girls.
2. Cookies must contain chocolate (or perhaps that was a stipulation made by or in consideration of the judges and their particular tastes).
3. The judges are Mom and Dad, neighbor if a tie breaker is needed.
4. Each group must choose their own recipe.
5. Cookies will be made in the same kitchen, using the same tools, and the same oven.


Once these items were agreed upon, the boys got to work first. And work they did. One was at the Bosch, one was at the sink, one was organizing ingredients. They had that kitchen running and ready to pump out some stellar cookies in a surprisingly convenient amount of time. I must not lie, the scale to measure the flour was a bit intimidating, but then I just reminded myself that the boys had a student of the culinary arts in their midst, and that seemed to help me feel better. Their chosen medium of attack was the standard and always truly pleasant, Chocolate Chip cookie. And that's just how it came out: truly pleasant. Crowd's choice if you will. The cookies were perfectly round, arguably a little thick, but completely aesthetically pleasing.

Considering our fantastic kitchen history Miss T, I was less than confidant, wary even, of the events that would follow when it then became the girls turn in the kitchen. Fortunately it was not left up to just you and me.


Then the girls, the Cutler women, the sisters if you will, got in on the action. We whipped our secret weapon, which was by far the best move we could have ever made, and our secret weapon's name is Lady A. Not only does Lady A have sweet kitchen skills, but she also had a recipe for Almond Joy cookies. Who could not love and rave about an Almond Joy cookie? And here is another reason why she was our secret weapon. She did not even know that Mom's favorite candy bars are Mounds and Almond Joy! Remember how Mom is a judge, and that was established before the competition even began? Perfect. And thanks to Lady A, that's pretty much how our Almond Joy cookies turned out: perfect.


The judges took their places at the table and we all sat around, ready to see what the results would be. Dad's place had a cup of Vitamin D milk (thank you T-bear and Cam-man) to cleanse his palate between cookies; Mom's place had 1% milk. They ate and they enjoyed. And then they ate and they enjoyed another cookie! Mom awarded her top choice first: Almond Joy cookie! Then the pressure was on Dad. Would he go for the classic, and even things up a bit? Would we have to pull in the neighbor? Or would he let the almondy-chocolatey-goodness pull him into its magical spell as well? He chewed and swallowed, and smiled. Then he complimented the Chocolate Chip cookie highly, but admitted that the novelty and deliciousness of the Almond Joy cookie won him over this time around.

VICTORY!

Then we all looked at the plates of cookies and noticed that the plate of Chocolate Chip cookies was nearly empty, while the Almond Joy cookie plate was still rather full. Ah ha. The Almond Joy cookie won the best individual cookie award, but when it came to wanting a second cookie, or a third or fourth, the classic Chocolate Chip cookie was the People's Choice.

Yum. You want one, right?

Since we're all so Creative, I assume this competition will go down again, and only good things can come of it. If we sisters stand any chance of winning again though, we'd better start the search for a killer cookie recipe now. Any ideas?

Love the ever domestic Aunty Kk


PS: Isn't our secret weapon also good looking?

The Gift of Tongues

Konichi wa KK,

Serving a mission in Japan was difficult because you have to attempt to learn Japanese. Although, as missionaries we studied Japanese for 12 weeks in the Missionary Training Center, it was not enough time to truly learn the language.


I remember praying daily and diligently for the “gift of tongues” as it is written in the scriptures. I needed divine help to learn to speak and understand this difficult language. There were many times when something was said to me in Japanese that I did not understand. This panic-like feeling came over me, because I realized it was really important for me to understand what they were saying, but my mind was completely blank. Miraculously there were many times when my mind was enlightened and I figured out was being said. My heart would then quickly offer a prayer of gratitude for the understanding that was above my own knowledge.

Since becoming a mother to a toddler, I have had some of these same mission feelings return. T Bear will say things to me that I do not understand. He looks at me so intently and expects me to understand the important words he is saying. That same panic-like feeling from the mission returns. I plead for understanding and usually it comes. I amazed at some of the things I am able to understand from T Bear because they certainly are not recognizable to anyone else. For instance, the other day I figured out he was saying “excavator” as we drove past a construction sight. What 2 year old says excavator?


I am just amazed because I thought when I was in Japan, praying for the gift of tongues would only happen there. Little did I know that the gift of tongues is not limited to missionaries in foreign countries, but is essential in mothering.

Sayonara imoto chan!

Miss T

*Be sure to come back for Friday for an exciting SISTERS event!*

Isn't it better when you are cuter?

Miss T:
Did you know that your workout goes better if you wear cute workout clothes?

It's just one of those things when of course it's not necessary to look cute, in fact it's not practical to put effort into because you are just going to become sweaty and gross, but the non-scientifically-proven benefits of feeling cute while working out are real.

I just got new workout clothes (thanks to my best friend from childhood) that are very cute. Today when I put my hair in a ponytail, the same ponytail that it goes in nearly every day, it looked cuter. When I put on my dirty old tennis shoes, they had a cuter kick to them. All because of my new cute workout clothes. When I went to jog and stretch and crunch and push-up it all went better because I was wearing cute workout clothes.

I had two hot chocolates today and I haven't lost any weight, but by golly I had a great workout in my cute workout clothes.

So if you want to up your workout, then the thing to do is to is make sure you are wearing cute workout clothes, and did I mention having a beautiful place like Seattle to workout in helps as well?


Love a happy and healthy Kk

TROY + CLAIRE

When we moved to Seattle over 2 years ago, we were lucky enough to become friends with the Bluhms. Dustin and Sally were super friendly and had a cute little baby named Claire. It turned out that Troy and Claire were only 9 days apart in age. We determined that they were destined to be friends. We began swapping babysitting weekly and fostered a special relationship.

Claire & Troy at 6 months old

On July 7th, Claire was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia. The night we received the phone call from Sally, my heart broke. I cried most of the night for our dear little Claire. We took Troy the next day to see Claire in the hospital. Although Claire was very sick and attached to machines, Troy was able to make her smile. The nurses thanked us for visiting and asked us to come back. Troy had no idea why his best friend was sick and in the hospital. I just held my healthy boy, kissed his head, and told him Claire will get better.

Although this news has been quite overwhelming for the Bluhms, the miracles have already begun. Claire is now home from the hospital and her leukemia is amazingly in remission. This does not change her 2 1/2 year treatment program and chemo schedule, but it does bring great hope to the Bluhm family. To read more about Claire’s incredible journey visit here regularly.

It is amazing that when something terrible hits close to home, how many people come forward and share similar stories to provide hope and comfort. My dear fried Cindy has a niece who is a survivor of childhood cancer at the age of 5. Cindy makes jewelry (buttons of hope) and sends 100% of the proceeds to American Cancer Society. My new interest is in finding ways to support children with cancer.

These last two weeks have reminded me of how precious life is and how grateful I am for eternal families. We will be continuously praying for Claire and her family. Hopefully Troy will be able to still able to make his best friend smile over this next period of her life.

Claire & Troy enjoying S'mores 5 days before the diagnosis

With Love,

Miss T

Meanbows

Hey Miss T,

Remember how I babysat the other day? Here's what happened.

V-princess scribbled a Meanbow. We sprayed off her dirty play castle in the backyard, fed all of her stuffed animals “water and yogurt,” and sang every song she knew while her baby brother slowly ate his mushed beef and carrot. After all of that, she was ready to color, and she colored a Meanbow.

We got out her spiral notebook that I thought was allowed for coloring (turns out it's not, but what can you do when you believe the lips of a 3-year old who assures you Mommy gave it to her specifically for coloring?). I pulled out her bag of awesome twist-up crayons, which are too classy of a crayon to be given to children in my opinion, and began to put color on the page. She violently scribbled some lines and mumbled something about “that’s angry” and “yes it's mean, it looks mean.” She took three or four colors more, then assured me that it was ok if I didn’t color inside the lines, and then didn't color inside any lines as if to show me by example. Then she made a few more strong scribbles and remarked with satisfaction “This is a Meanbow.” As in, not a rainbow, but a Meanbow.

I studied the picture briefly, then agreed with the diagnosis of her own masterpiece. The jagged lines and blotches of color did look angry and mean, yet colorful and strong. They zig-zagged across each other as if competing for space, and struck out sharply at neighboring colors. These very same colors, the bold, strong and bright ones that make up something beautiful, a rainbow, also make up a Meanbow.



Children always seem to teach us things about life. I thought about the days that I too make a Meanbow. I make angry strokes, or just do things in frustration, competing for time and attention at all costs. My weaknesses flare out in zig-zag and jagged array, near uncontrollably. Other days my actions are as gentle as summer rains, forming a vivid rainbow for myself and often others to enjoy as well.

I tried to take a picture of V-princess’s Meanbow. She said, “No! Don’t take a picture of that” as if she was ashamed for her Meanbow to be seen and recognized for what it really was by anyone else. I understood her shame. But I snuck a picture anyway.

It feels good to scribble out a good Meanbow out every once in a while. Sure rainbows are nicer, and preferred in general, but sometimes don't Meanbows look a little more like rainbows in hindsight?

-Auntie Kk

Why I Should Not Wear White Pants

Yesterday I wore white pants. Now I should have realized that with my clumsy and messy history that this was not a good idea, but I was so thrilled about finally having a sunny day in Seattle, that I disregarded completely the fact that I am a slob and that I spend my days with a 2 year old boy.

This is what my white pants were covered in at the end of the day:

Chocolate smear from my granola bar that I brought into the Free Family movie in the morning. I attempted to use my trusty Tide-to-Go pen, but it was futile. During the movie, T Bear climbed all over me with his dirty water sandals.

Pee from a misfire on the potty (from my 2 yr old, not myself).

Lots of dirt from the zoo. I lifted T Bear up to see hippos, zebras, gorillas, giraffes, snakes, crocodiles and more. T Bear was extremely disappointed we did not see the elephants poop (I definitely did not want that on my pants).

Some kind of greasy stuff from filling up the car with gas.

Smudges from a chocolate muffin I inhaled at a gas station due to a combination of low blood sugar and a pregnancy craving. Then I dripped orange juice while trying to share my drink with T Bear.

Dust from sitting against a wall in a warehouse watching my nephew take a Parkour lesson. T Bear was loudly insisting that he was BIG enough to climb on the climbing wall like the other boys.

Food particles from two separate meals: Pizza for the boys and giyoza (pot-stickers) for the girls.

Bath water being splashed out of the tub at an uncontrollable rate.

Big D came home and commented on my dirty pants. They obviously were not that bad since he was still able to give my bum cheek a good squeeze!

I am tempted to say, “I will never wear white pants again!” But alas, I cannot. They are just so cute sometimes. I am just glad I don’t wear white pants everyday!

Miss T

Reunions at their best.

Hi Miss T.

It's alright. Go ahead. You may laugh. I give you my permission. You may laugh at me, sitting bundled up on your couch in my hoody with the hood tied, hand warmers in my pockets, knitted socks, and my Snuggie to top it off, in this the month of July. Though it is cold here many days (let's define cold in relation to Hawaii please), it's awesome to be back on your couch. At least I'm good for a giggle or two, right?

I've been spending time on your couch reading. This is quality reading that I am doing, as you know, because you yourself gave me the book: Goose Girl. This rekindled love of reading, and other recent events have caused me to recognize and consider the joining again of two things that have been apart, or in other words, reunions, if you will.

Isn't it a delight to be together again with a sister who you've always looked up to and tried to be like? How time changes the details, but the essence of who we are and what we live for link us back together as if we had never been apart.

What a sensation it is to be reunited with a good book, a fairy tale clearly, and get lost in the dreams and fantasies that you lived in as a young adolescent. To find yourself again thinking and hoping even now that if you were lucky a prince would fall in love with you because of your noble deeds, or if you were luckier, the stableboy would fall in love with you and somehow his right to the throne would become known through the journey of your love story. Then you would live together happily, and work at the ever after.

How good it is to see again old high school chums. To see one another with slightly modified hairstyles, maybe a little less-sloppy clothing choice, and the exact same smiles and expressions that imprinted memory upon memory in the first place. To sit together over lunch, and talk of grown-up goals that were once airy dreams above our heads, now insurance card and job offers in our pockets.

These are all recent reunions I have had, and to top it off was the reunion with an LDS missionary, our brother Brock. Perhaps why reuniting with a missionary is the sweetest of all reunions, is because of the separation that precedes this reunion. You may think I mean the initial separation of a missionary, when they leave behind family, friends, and lifestyle for 1 1/2-2 years to be obedient to strict codes of conduct and focus on the purpose of inviting others to come unto Christ. True, that separation is difficult. But there is another, that makes the reunion all the sweeter.

When I was away in Hawaii as a missionary, my love and appreciation for my family grew because, "you don't know what you got til it's gone," right? But to my surprise my heart opened and expanded to immeasurable sizes as I met my Hawaiian Ohana. The genuine and selfless love that initiated the separation in the first place only grows while you serve as a missionary, and help all to understand the purpose of this life. So, when the day comes that you have to leave that new found mission ohana, for me Hawaii and for our brother Japan, that separation is best consoled by a reunion with one's family. How sweet indeed that reunion is.

And so, though my feet and hands may be cold, the truth is that my heart and spirit are not. They are warmer than ever in this cool Seattle summer weather, and together we will laugh and giggle, because for now we are together. A reunion of the best kind.

Aloha. Kk

Auntie KK

(T Bear & KK's first picture together)

KK,

I think it is wonderful that you are spending the summer in Seattle. Already I have enjoyed several things with you, such as:

-Your excitement as you hear the Wee Sings songs with T Bear. I have heard them 100 million times and the novelty has definitely worn off for me, but it is fun to see you be refreshed by them

-Live-in Nanny! Thanks for babysitting T Bear while I have gone to Doctor’s appointments, DI, Visiting Teaching, and for a massage appointment.

-Merry Maid. Every time I turn around you have loaded the dishwasher or cleaned up something for me. I can’t thank you enough for vacuuming the apartment buildings for me - I am totally sick of vacuuming. Although I find this behavior helpful, T Bear doesn’t seem to enjoy finding his blanket folded up every hour of the day.

-Your laugh. Big D and I get a kick out of watching TV with you because you think the commercials are HILARIOUS! The truth is that they are really not that funny, but we laugh because your laugh is quite contagious. Welcome back to the world of TV - not all of it is so funny unfortunately.

Oh KK, you are the best! I know T Bear is slowly warming up to you. It is pretty funny that at every meal he stares at you and shouts “No KK pray!!! KK just listen!!!” I don’t know what he has against you praying, but we will work on it.

Here is to a great Seattle Summer!

Love,

Miss T

It happened! T Bear asked specifically for KK to "hold him" on the way to his physical therapy appointment. It made KK's day!

*Isn't ironic that I have to take T Bear to physical therapy for toe-walking considering I worked in pediatric physical therapy for two years before he was born?

Together Again

Well my Sister has arrived! Not only is she home from her mission in Hawaii but she is actually spending the next few months with ME in SEATTLE!

Not all sisters look alike--my sister and I don’t . We’ve never really been in a place together where people didn’t already know we were sisters. So it is fun and a little surprising to hear comments from people who are connecting us for the first time. My favorite so far was the first Sunday she was here.

Kallene got up in front of our ward and bore her testimony.

After Sacrament Meeting, President T, came up to me and asked me if Kallene was really my sister.

I said, “Yes.”

He said, “But she doesn’t look like you at all and she has an accent.”

“I know, the accent is from her mission in Hawaii. I guess she was around a lot of Polynesian people. It is pretty funny though,” I replied.

President T asks, “So she is really your blood sister?”

I smiled and said “Yes, she is, President T.”