Good grief

Today is my baby sister's birthday and she is old enough, I am sorry to say,  to make me feel old.    I remember when she was born, an event that was celebrated by chocolate milk at a restaurant and, more remarkably, by my father's forbearance from punishment when I spilled it.    Even so, I'm afraid I was not thrilled to have her;  my parents yelled at the family dog whenever she went near the baby and when I chose sides, I decided I'd rather have the dog than a baby sister.  At this point, many (many) years later, I am willing to concede that I may have been wrong because, although Taffy was a very good dog,  my sister has grown on me over the years.