I want to tell you about my childish dream.

When I was a little girl (at about 6 years old) I was eager to have a sister, to brash and set her hair, to nurse her and to play with her. One day my mother said that soon there will be a little baby in our family, my little brother. I didn't believe her; I didn't even want to hear that. When we together with my grandma were informed about the birth of my brother I was shocked!

I went into hysteric sobbing violently and crying about big doctors' mistake. I was more than serious arguing about it as if being a grown-up. With a furious movement I overturned a chair, rushed to the door, went out, and immediately was back with my eyes full of tears.

Many years have gone since that day. We still don't get on. Each of us prefers to live his own life. It's a pity I know.
But I have embodied my dream to have a little sister in my little daughter and named her as my sister was presupposed to be named.

Her name is Diana. :)