My little sister, fourth grader Morgan, has a theory: everyone’s personality is dependent on which holiday they are born near. For example, if you’re born around the Fourth of July, you’re probably pretty patriotic. Or if your birthday is close to Thanksgiving, you’re generous. If you’re born near St. Patrick’s Day – I don’t know – maybe you have a thing for the Irish?
Not all of the details have been worked out yet, but let’s run with it.
My birthday is Feb. 17 – three days after Valentine’s Day. I am known as a passionate, steamy lover, so theory confirmed.
If you’re still unconvinced, Morgan was born a couple weeks before Halloween, and she has always had a fascination with the living dead, monsters, sci-fi stories and all fantastical creatures.
As a baby, Morgan’s favorite movies were “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” “Casper,” “Coraline” and “Hotel Transylvania.”
She also has a taste for creepy books. This summer she read “The Skeleton Man,” a story of a man who becomes a cannibal after accidentally burning himself with a candle and nibbling on his own skin. The man then eats himself to the point where only his bones remain – and goes on to eat the rest of his extended family at a reunion. As a result, she says that her new favorite monsters are skeletons.
And Morgan has a passion for Monster High dolls, which are the glammed-up teenage versions of villains from classic horror movies. Her favorite is Gooliope Jellington, a giant lady whose skin is pink goo and, therefore, melting off her body. (Apparently, a gruesome skin anomaly doesn’t stop Gooliope from rocking high heels, a mini skirt and the dozens of other accessories that the doll comes with.)
Morgan will frequently host tea parties for Gooliope, her collection of life-size plastic skeletons (a bat, a dog, a cat, a rat and two humans) and a voodoo doll that she made and named Anna Bell.
Needless to say, as Halloween approaches, Morgan’s spooky side shines through, and her anticipation for dressing up for the big day builds. While my other sister Bianca and I have dressed up as the American flag, disco dancers, pumpkins and sheep, Morgan has taken a darker route, choosing to be Harley Quinn (a fictional supervillain who faces off against Batman) last year and a vampire princess the year before. This year she plans on being a puppet.
A couple years ago Morgan wanted to turn our house into a haunted house for Halloween. She planned on luring kids inside and then having our family scare them as they went from room to room. However, we decided that the risk of a lawsuit was too great to move forward with the idea.
Don’t get me wrong, Morgan doesn’t always wander around the house with her eyes rolled back in her head, speaking Latin and summoning demons. (She does that only on the weekends when her bedtime is pushed back to 9 p.m.) While deeply devoted to the dark arts, Morgan has other interests.
She likes to dress in pink, plays with her dollies and is still too scared to go on rollercoasters. She also enjoys running around in the backyard, playing with the dogs, making pancakes and spamming people with emojis over text.
And she designs and creates intricate dollhouses out of cardboard. She once made a cardboard Batplane for her Batgirl doll that now hangs in my dad’s office.
She recently swiped my laptop, looked me in the eyes and swore me to secrecy and then searched “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” on Netflix. She didn’t want to ruin the “tough guy” reputation that she has been building.
Morgan is also quite the intellectual. She takes practice spelling tests several times every weekend in preparation for her weekly in-class spelling tests and is an avid reader. (Then again, a couple weeks ago, she sang a short song in the grocery store that went “Eating cake is better than farting in a bucket.” I mean, she’s not wrong.)
As you can see, there are layers to my little sister. I guess her diabolical layer runs just a little deeper than the rest.
After listening to me read this blog aloud, Morgan told me that she was going to “eat my mind.” Then she made some clicking noises and walked away. I assumed that meant I had her approval to publish.
—By Sonja Hansen