Thor says HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MORTAL!

If you live in Maine and happened to be awakened by the riotous thunder last night, you can blame my sister, Becca. 

Becca is 21 today. 

Her boyfriend, Thor-god-of-thunder, was wishing her a happy birthday in true Norse style.

After being jolted awake by that Avengers-esque birthday greeting, I suddenly grasped what I had been trying to avoid in the weeks prior:

My little sister is 21 today. 

My little sister is 21?

MY little sister is 21?!

MY LITTLE sister is 21?!?!

Wow, my little sister is 21.

B and I have been through some pretty amazing adventures through the years. We've spanned the danger spectrum from benign (sneaking out of bed to host meetings of "the sticker club" in our closet) to life-threatening (that one time I saved her from being dragged out to sea by an intense under-toe current...thanks rec center swimming lessons!) and somehow we're no worse for wear... Or at least we're still breathing having incurred only minor damage to our emotional state... and pride.

We don't have any other siblings and have always lived far away from our crazy awesome clan of Italian/Irish cousins, so for the most part it's just been the two of us.

We've survived a flurry of bad fashion: middle parted bangs, butterfly clips, chokers, matching sweatsuits, Looney Toon embellished items, etc...

We've managed a number of tremendously devastating break-ups stupid boys.

We weathered the ice storm of 1998 with ease. (no power for 14 days means no school, epic amounts of board games, make-believe, and showering in the locker rooms at our town's indoor pool = a 7 and 10 yr-olds' dream come true)

We've fought over: the remote, clothes, chores, the Nickelodeon "gak" that we got for Christmas, etc and yet I've only knocked out 1 of her teeth and she only punched me in the face twice!  (granted one was an accident.....I think)

She's 21. How is this even allowed to happen? I'll admit, I'm slightly outraged at the prospect of my little nugget of cuteness officially becoming an adult.

I am only 3 years older than B and yet I have always felt responsible for her safety. Anyone who is an older sibling in any capacity (particularly all my first born peeps out there) will understand this. 

For example, in elementary school, a kid threw a piece of broken pavement at her. I promptly pinned him up against a dumpster by his neon windbreaker and threatened him with all the 3rd grade power I could muster....by telling him I was a 4th degree black belt and would break both his legs if he ever came near her again...for the record I've still never taken a martial arts class. (But if you're reading this kid, Husband actually does martial arts, so don't get any ideas.)

Or...One year, she had her birthday party at McDonald's (don't judge - this is back when people thought Sun Chips were considered health food). Some random (and uninvited) kid kept pushing her and her friends - which can be treacherous when you're in the plastic depths of the Play Place. Once again, I rushed to her aid, cornered the kid (leaving him teetering on the edge of the ball pit), and informed him that I was a 6th degree black belt (note the increased confidence in my charade) and Darth Vader was a friend of mine (nerd alert), so if he knew what was good for him, he'd get lost. He cried and his mom just bought him more chicken nuggets (is there no justice in the world?!).

I digress...the point is, my little sister is no longer little. I think that's why I'm so weirded out. As much as I'd like to, I can't protect her from life. I can't shield her from the reality of career let downs, failed relationships, or Sallie Mae's all-prevailing tenacity to get their money back. Besides, I doubt they would be intimidated by my claims of martial arts proficiency. 

Let's face it. I'm not Thor. Firstly, I lack upper body strength. Secondly, well frankly, the thunder last night gave me a severe case of goosebumps. Flying in to save her will not work to her favor in interviews or final exams.

The good news is, my sister is awesome. Despite some turbulent adolescent years (let's face it - we all had them), she has emerged a beautiful, fearless woman. Maybe that scares me a little bit too. For the first time, she doesn't need me to protect her. She's wielding her own sense of purpose and drive that is sometimes so convicted it intimidates me. 

So Becca, while I don't have golden years of wisdom to share with you, I do have a little something. And yes, it obviously involves food.

Becca, I love you. I love you so much I decided to make you a cake. That's one of the things I can do for you. It's your favorite flavor, of course, and the recipe is easy-peasy-lemon-squeezey. This cake is basically the opposite of life. Unlike most other things you will encounter, this process is simple. Unlike other things you will want in life, this cake is easily attained. 

You'll soon find (as if you haven't already, you brilliant thing, you), that the things you want the most, the things that taste the sweetest, are the most difficult to achieve. But I promise you they're worth every bit of striving, every ounce of patience and lessons learned. When you want something for the right reasons and you're ready to work to get there - you will.

But enough of the seriousness! Sheesh, Fryer. All we want right now is cake!

Not just any cake...Tiramisu Cake!

Step One: Preheat oven to 350. Combine 1 cup of strongly brewed coffee, 4 egg whites, and a boxed cake mix. Yes, you read that right - a boxed cake mix. I already warned you. This is a fantasy cake full of shortcuts that can't be utilized in daily life. (or shouldn't be) Now, don't go all Betty Crocker on me, get something organic or at least not chock full of preservatives and death. I recommend Dr. Oetker or Cherrybrook Farms. Mix until well combined and then beat for 2 minutes.

Calm down people, he's a Doctor.

Step Two: Finely chop 4 Skor bars (Fun fact: one of the few candy bars that does not contain trans fats - along with my favorite peanut butter cups - win!) Fold into batter.

 Halloween Flashback...except those would be empty wrappers and I would be sick.

Step Three: Bake in two 8-9 inch rounds that have been greased and floured for 25-35 minutes  or until golden brown on the edges and cooked through.

Thanks Doc! These look swell!

Step Four: Combine mascarpone cheese and powdered sugar with a few splashes of coffee (measurements will differ based on your taste) and whip into a frenzy of simple pastry cream to fill and ice this masterpiece!

You may want to make more than needed for the cake...excessive tasting is inevitable.

Step Five: Stack. Cake-PastryCream-Cake-PastryCream

The fact that I resisted eating the second layer is proof that I'm a good sister.

Step Six: Wish Becca the happiest 21st birthday ever and enjoy.

Creepy face. Sincere heart. ...Hey, I tried.

Happy Birthday to you 

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday my dear, sweet, incredible Becca

Happy Birthday to you

World, get ready. This girl is coming for you.