In 1985, my first year of college, Mimo and Puchi sent me two birthday cards, both post-marked December 7. One had a picture of Lucy from the comic strip Peanuts saying “Happy Birthday to someone who’s cute, sensitive, intelligent, talented and wonderful! I could go on and on!” And on the inside, “But your starting to get on my nerves!”

Both are written in Mimo’s handwriting and the return address is “M & P, 112 Stoner Drive, West Hartford, CT.”

The second one has a picture of Dick and Jane with their dog, Spot. “Dick says have a nice birthday. Jane says have a nice birthday. Spot says have a few belts and let the good times roll!” And on the inside, “Spot Knows you better than anyone!”

Inside, Mimo wrote, “Was going to enclose some fun in this card, but you will have to wait till I can mail it on Monday.” 

It’s no secret that the Khan sisters like a good party, and Mimo and Puchi introduced me to this preferred lifestyle early. On my 16th birthday, they woke me up “for school.” It was still dark out, but it was December and it was often dark when I woke up for school. I got up and got dressed thinking it was morning, only to find out that it was midnight. After presenting me with a cake and the Nikon camera I had been longing for, they put me in the car and took me out to a bar for a birthday drink.

I was in my Sophomore year at Walker’s and was living at home instead of at school because of Ami’s cancer. Everyone thought it would be better for Ami if the girls were at home with her. Made sense to me, but she ended her treatment early and left for Pakistan, leaving me under the care of my older sisters who immediately turned the Stoner mansion into their private party pad.

One day I came home from school to find people milling about in various rooms. I encountered Mimo and Puchi in the hallway near the Big room and Mimo said, “We’re making a liquor store run. You want anything?”

And I responded, primly, “Yes. I’d like a liter of Diet Coke and I suggest you get the same.”

Ten years or so later, I was introduced to the show Absolutely Fabulous. It was broadcast on BBC from 1992 to 1996 and 2001 to 2004. Much like the plot of AbFab, as it is known for short, I was like the disapproving Sapphy to my two carefree, pleasure-seeking older sisters. In AbFab, Sapphy, is Eddy’s adolescent daughter, who provides the persistently dour criticisms of Eddy and Patsy’s behavior. Sapphy, like me, was prim and proper, studious, responsible and a bit of a goody two shoes. 

That winter the three of us took a vacation to the Dominican Republic. I was excited. Warm weather, sandy beaches, blue water. But we never went to the beach. Mimo and Puchi would keep me up all night partying and dancing into the early hours of the morning. The daylight hours would be spent inside, sleeping, though it was often hard to find the bed. Their suitcases were an explosion of clothing in the bedroom of the apartment we rented, the furniture covered with various articles of my sisters’ wardrobe.

When the morning came for us to go home, they were in a deep sleep. I packed my things neatly in my suitcase, leaving their piles of dirty, wrinkled clothing in the bedroom, and took a cab to the airport, hoping they would miss the flight. Our seats were preassigned, and of course I had the middle seat, which I dutifully sat in, even though they were no where near the airport.

Most of the passengers were seated. The plane was going to leave on schedule, and I thought, “Oh good. They’re not going to make it.” Just as they were about to close the airplane doors, I saw them. Stumbling down the aisle looking like bag ladies. Unbathed, with handkerchiefs and scarves covering their dirty hair. They sat down, one on each side of me smelling of the things they had consumed the night before.

“When we get home,” I said calmly, “I have a lot of school work to do. If you pass me in the hallway of the house, don’t speak to me. Don’t even look at me. Understand?”

I can’t remember what they said. But the drink cart rolled by a few minutes later and they each ordered a Bloody Mary.