My baby sister is a firecracker. Yes, she is a spunky little spitfire, but she was also born on the Fourth of July. She really is an all-American, red-white-and-blue firecracker. If I had to narrow down the field, I’d say she’s either a sparkler (for her extroverted personality) or she’s one of those ginormous multi-colored, layered ring, laced with gold sparkly stars ground shakers they use in fireworks finales (for her impact on the rest of our family). I’m not going to sugar coat this. When she was little, she used to say snotty things to us like, “Mom says you have to make my bed because I’m the baby” which was usually followed by her sticking out her tongue. She was THAT sister. If we heard “I don’t have to do it because I’m the baby” once, we heard it a million times. Luckily, she was cute so we didn’t kill her, rub her with honey and leave her for the fire ants, or sell her to traveling gypsies. Not that we didn’t consider it from time to time. When you grow up in a large family, random thoughts of leaving your siblings on the toy aisle in K-Mart do cross your mind. 
As she grew older, she became far less of a brat and more of the family comedian. Baby Sister was always the one that could make a face, pull a stunt or break out the slap-stick and make us laugh. She is our “most likely to tickle your funny bone.” She’s still cute, but she’s also smart, funny and thoughtful and can sing the full lyrics to just about any song (she was in choir). And while my own daughter is still my first pick for “crazy dance contest” partner, my baby sister will always be a top choice for family road-trip sing-along partner. She also makes an excellent trivia & board game partner, since she somehow retains random knowledge as well as she retains lyrics. She’s a weapon of mass instruction. She’s Rain Man.
Our baby sister on her wedding day - surrounded by nieces and nephews
Inside NanaBread's Head 