I guess there’s a kind of irony in the fact that my sister gave forth a tumor the size of a BABY’S head, and that she is now curled up in a FETAL position with a CAESARIAN scar on her tum.

She didn’t keep the tumor, although she did ask that it be brought to her hospital bedside, that she might be able to brag accurately.

So, they brought her a bucket containing the baby’s head tumor. It was very large and very heavy and filled the bucket about halfway. Definitely brag-n-smirk material.

So Sis, when you’re able to breathe without whimpering, let the stories begin. You own the bragging rights, and I, as the Favorite Sister, will stand by and nod and smile and say, “Yes, yes it was. I saw the scar. It was HUGE.”

I have only this to say: I wish I could have done more for you.

And this: Next time, save the tumor. Ebay’s calling, and we need the money. Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind carving the face of the Virgin Mary into it, before you plopped it back into the bucket. . . . .

Because, you know, I don’t think that casino-with- more- money- than -sense has a baby’s head with Mary the Mother of Jesus on it. Yet.

I picture a kind of Voldemort thing.