We called her Nervous Nelly because she was always getting into things and becoming emotional once she was caught. She was scared of everything, but also inquisitive to a fault.

My twin brother and I were 8 and Nelly was 7. Nelly was a skinny little brown girl with a perpetual runny nose. I recall her doing things like lifting pillow cushions at my grandmother's house to check for change. Or pulling out desk drawers to see what she could find.

I can't begin to count how many times Mom warned Nelly to stay out of her things. One day, Nelly was putting on Mom's lipstick and spraying perfume all over herself. When Nelly looked in the mirror, she spotted Mom standing right behind her. Nelly took off running and forced Mom to chase her in circles throughout the house. Round and round through the bedrooms and into the hallway and into the living room, through the bedrooms again, and back out into the hallway Nelly ran as she screamed and cried for fear of getting in trouble. After fifteen minutes, Mom was usually too tired to continue the chase, and because Nelly knew that, she would usually dip under a bed until Mom calmed down. We all laughed at Nelly's antics at first, but eventually we grew tired of Nelly's routine. It was inconsiderate of Nelly to force Mom to chase her around the house like that after she had been disobedient.

One day, Mom was preparing to spray paint an antique China cabinet that had been given to her by a friend. Mom placed the can of brown paint on the floor next to the cabinet as she prepared to tape over the glass doors.

My twin brother played with his bat mobile while my little brother played with his blocks. I played with my Barbie doll house as Nelly colored in her new coloring book. We were all so preoccupied that we didn't notice that Nelly had managed to scoot closer to the can to examine the tiny hole in the spout. She wondered what would happen if she stuck a pin in it (she told me this years later). Eventually, the can was in her hand. She had managed to locate a tiny pin and proceeded to stick the pin into the spout.

Suddenly, brown paint started spewing out of the can. Nelly's screams abruptly interrupted the peace and woke us from our complacency. We watched in horror as Nelly screamed and turned around in a circle while still holding the can as brown paint spewed out of the little hole.

"Drop the can! Drop it! Drop the can," we yelled.

But Nelly couldn't hear us over her own screams.

"Drop the can! Drop it! Drop the can," we yelled again.

By the time Mom climbed down from her ladder with the intention of grabbing the can from Nelly's hand, everyone and everything, including the new China cabinet, was speckled with brown paint.

Nelly stood in the middle of the room, still holding the empty can as she stared at her mess. Eventually, she dropped the can and ran down the hall, but there was no chase. Mom sat down on the floor and cried as she looked at the mess that Nelly had made.