Here’s a little speech/poem I read at my sister Silvy’s 21st birthday…
21 years ago shit really hit the fan
Me and Elle were pretty secure we were last in the fam,
One wide eyed baby stealing my attention had been enough,
but low and behold mum was yet again up the bloody duff
9 months later, she was rushed to A&E,
And much to my annoyance we were suddenly three.
Silvy was quickly a nightmare.
She would just scream till she got what she wanted
and this often meant MY desires were thwarted
And with Silvy’s naughtiness, imaginary friend Goldilocks emerged on the scene,
One night lying on Silv’s bed, attempting the impossible task of making her serene,
I pointed at water stains on the ceiling and said ‘I wonder where those are from and when they came’
She ummed and ahhed and eventually said ‘Yeah – It looks like goldilocks been cooking kippers again’
On her third birthday, Silvy announced that the dress code should be ‘evil’ whilst sitting in her cot
Unsurprisingly, her mates had no clue what evil was so we had wonderwomen, batmen – the lot.
Silvy sat over her cake face painted white, black swastika on her head
and drew her own Goebbels on an unassuming child called Fred
So after I went through puberty with this little bundle of energy and fire,
on whom the ‘let’s tell on her’ and ‘pull down her bikini ‘gag never did tire.
Something happened. I’m not sure what.
See – Silvy never really did the cringe thing of the teenage years,
I listened to LL Cool J everyday and prayed to be black,
Emo Elle wore black and listened to Avril Lavigne
Silvy made no such embarrassing scene
She just grew up. No fuss. No ‘say this is a phase, please’
And as she did, I suddenly found myself at her knees.
Frank, Claudia, Emily, Silvy hang out with me please!
Loyal, kind, hysterical, fun, exhaustingly witty and bright,
there is nothing more satisfying than looking at the sight
of my little sister and saying at last, FINALLY
You’re my best friend and Thank God there were three.
So for Silvy and Emily: the goldilocks Silvy was always looking for and who the Ps madly adore
Let’s get some standing ovation and more importantly give my poem some bloody appreciation.
