A Love Letter To My Future Little

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Dear Little,

You don’t know me yet, but I know you. Through means only known by me (and probably the FBI) I’ve discovered your middle name, birthday, SSN, cup size, and how you take your coffee. I know your favorite color, season, animal, and Lilly Pulitzer print. I’ve creeped so far back on your Facebook that I know exactly how awkward you were in 2008, and yet I’m still just as in love with you as I was before.

Over the next few days, you’ll wonder who I am, and I’ll bite my tongue while I try not to spoil it. I’ll awkwardly avoid you at our events, out of fear that I won’t be able to stop myself from gushing all over you if we do start talking. Although I’ll try to lead you astray with my clues, I hope you’ll still tell your friends that you want it to be me.

As your big, I’ll do my best to be your mom, sister, mentor, and, above all, the best friend that you could ask for. I’ll chase boys who are clearly less than nines away from you at parties, and I’ll be honest with you if the dress you’re wearing really does makes you look fat. We’ll watch “Desperate Housewives” together and drink cheap wine as we shop for matching monograms online. Whenever you call, I’ll pick up on the first ring, instead of letting it go two or three times so that I don’t seem needy.

None of this is to say that being my little will be all fun and games. Your grandbig and I must inspect any boys you become interested in before you’re allowed to date them. You will be required to uphold the family traditions of dancing on tables and chasing shots with wine, and, of course, you’ll be expected to provide me with an acceptable grandlittle when the time comes.

In return, I will give you wine nights, hand-me-downs, crafts I almost gave up on halfway through, and immeasurable amounts of love and support. I’ll be the one who will stay up with you all night, whether it’s spent partying or studying or bitching about some guy who broke your heart and how he’s probably a man whore, anyway.

I hope none of this scares you away. I’m sure when you’re ready to become a big, you’ll see that none of this is creepy. Either way, I’m forever stuck with you, and you’re forever stuck with me, and I can’t wait to stick together for the rest of our college years, and many more after that. Welcome to the family, Little. Mama loves you.

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Hailing from the quaint city of "You've Probably Never Heard Of It", MO, (@Amanduhtory) prides herself in her big dreams and even bigger boobs. A medical student by day and self-proclaimed "srat star" by night, she enjoys drunken crafting and has perfected the art of looking like she knows what she's doing.

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