The wise one, T, looks at the world through myopic spectacles that look like she stole them from a home for the elderly. Not just that, this was the pair even they were preserving as an example of glasses worn by the 1940’s career man. With these bottle bottoms, an oversized sweater that could have well been donated by a homeless person, she sometimes cries silently into her glass when drunk.
She can eat a pound of cake at a time without ever crossing 100 pounds and she cannot cook. She also has really big feet and has been forced to reluctantly accept “big foot” as a term of endearment from friends and family. Perhaps the least known fact about her is that she can burp so loudly I once woke up from my sleep — and I was sleeping in another room.
People of all kinds love her because she is wise, kind and funny and has the loudest laugh ever.
I love her because when no one is watching she sits alone and keenly observes her feet and sometimes applies mildly shiny glitter on her face to appear glamorous. But I love her most because when I ask her “How do I look?” she is the only person who says, “Not so good. You look like a watermelon.”