I hadn’t forseen this.

I’ve got two host sisters now, 14 and 15, who hang on every novel thing I do, like making coffee with my new French press.  “Can I have some with?”  “Me too!”

Fortunately, I make wonderfully thick, bitter coffee, and told them it would stunt their growth;  I don’t think will ask again.

When I was a big sister to a fifteen year-old, I was seventeen/eighteen, hated myself, and couldn’t fathom that someone else might look up to me.   I wasn’t the age that fifteen year-old girls are eager to be; old enough that at fifteen it seems impossibly far away, exotically older, but not old.  I’m not used this role model business.  So I don’t think I’ll be watching movies in my room while drinking whole bottles of red wine this semester.

However, if I did, and my surrogate little sisters asked for sips of Korean red wine, it might put them off alcohol for life.

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