I grew up in a house that had these two magnets on the kitchen refrigerator:
Sharon is my mother. Andrea is my sister.
Where is the Holly magnet you ask? Well, it seems that this magnet didn't come with that name and I have been forever left out of the rolling-pin fun.
So, here's what I figure: The lack of a Holly magnet is a sign. The fact that my parents couldn't find one with my name must mean that Hollys are not kitchen kind of gals.
See, it's not my fault that I'm not domesticated . . .