I spend most of my time at Friendly’s for sundaes, I keep a booster seat in the back of my car, I normally have a small child attached to my side as I casually stroll through the mall, I cancel plans to drop-off or pick-up at day camp, I make two of every meal so my mini-me can eat too, and I spend one too many days at FunPlex a week.

No, I don’t have a daughter.

She is my younger sister, and we are 11 years apart.

My best friend is seven, and I am 18.

Normally, that wouldn't sound right… but somehow it works.

When life has got me down, and nothing is going right, she is always there to say, “Jackie, is everything alright? Do you need a hug? I love you!”

Waking up to a small child jumping on your bed two hours before your alarm goes off sounds horrific… but those are my best days. She puts a smile on my face before I can even open my eyes.

She gives me the best, honest opinions, even if they are harsh.

This little girl is my fashion critic, movie-watching buddy, assistant chef, photographer, sister, and best friend.

So YES, sometimes I treat her like my daughter. She begs me for more ice cream and I respond with, “Next time, we need to get to your swimming lesson!” When I’m feeling generous, I take her to Claire’s and buy her a new pair of earrings… or 12. I help her with her homework, and when girls are mean (because some just always are), my shoulder is there for her to cry on.

This girl's got attitude, don’t get me wrong. We fight like there’s no tomorrow, and scream, “Mom!” quite often throughout the day, but once each day is over, I tuck her into bed while she chokes me with her unconditionally-loving hug.