We loved her. So much so that Mom used to put her in the playpen to keep us from bothering her. For years I had a scar on my cheek from where her baby fingernail scratched me away from her personal space.
Over the years my brother and I, like siblings throughout history, teased and tormented our little sister. One of our favorite "insults," though, started quite innocently. We were dressing for some occasion and our parents said, Susan, don't you look spiffy.
I NOT SPIFFY! came the reply. We laughed and laughed over this. And, of course, called her spiffy as much as possible.