Paris, TX

"Who is your favorite Disney princess?"

I grip the steering wheel with one hand and scratch my neck with the other. Kayla and I are cruising along I-45, driving through central Texas. We're passing farms and cows and a whole lot of brown and yellow. An endless field of dead grass beneath an overcast sky. As we drive, the grass alternates between the two colors. Brown, yellow, brown, yellow.

"Does Belle count as a princess?" I ask.

Kayla pops a fry into her mouth and nods her head.

"She marries the beast at the end, remember?"

"Ah, right." I concede. "Then Belle is my favorite."

As part of her Christmas present, I promised Kayla a trip to Paris (her dream vacation destination). Unfortunately, I'm broke. Fortunately, there's a Paris about five hours from Houston. It's a dumb joke, but it was a chance for a brother-sister road trip.

"What about you?"

Looking out the window, she contemplates the question for a minute before answering.

"Rapunzel. Or Elsa."

Kayla raises another fry to her mouth, but drops it before she can take a bite.

"Aw, man. I wanted that..."

I turn to her and smile.

"Hey, Kayla?"

She looks at me.

"Let it go! LET IT GOOOO!" I croon, in an off-key outdoor voice.

Kayla rolls her eyes, a flash of adolescence cutting through the veneer of childhood.

There have been plenty of those on this trip. Many of my stupid jokes that would have received a giggle from Kayla a couple years ago are met with eye-rolls. Or sighs. Or smirks. Or sarcasm.

Kayla is still a kid, but slowly transitioning into a teenager. This is her first year of middle school and she's going through that in-between phase (pre-teen? tween? kid-ager?). One second she'll be coloring a picture of Spongebob, then the next she'll be posting a selfie to Instagram with the caption "#sofresh."

Kayla and I continue along I-45. We pass by a burned down barn. Then a cow. Then more brown/yellow.

"Blank Space" comes on the radio for the seventh time in the last three hours.

"UGGGGHHH," we both say, but neither of us changes the station. Thirty seconds later, we're singing along with Taylor Swift.

When I first moved to Chicago, Kayla was six years old and half-way through first grade. Each time I went back to Houston, she'd be a little taller, a little louder.

Once, a few years years after I left, I chastised her for not doing her homework. Kayla shouted back that she'd do it when she felt like it.

"When did Kayla become so sassy?" I asked my other two sisters.

"You've been gone for a while, Fito." Michelle said.

"Yeah, you don't really know what's going on in our lives anymore." said Kimberly.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

They didn't say it to be hurtful. Simply stating the truth. I didn't know what was going on in their lives. Not just with Kayla, but with my other sisters. My parents. Even the family dogs. Kimberly had switched majors twice. My dad had tried to start his own political party in Mexico. Our shih tzu had gone blind.

It was unreasonable and unfair for me to expect things to stay the same. Selfish and self-centered as always, I figured my family would just wait around for me to come back, embracing me with open arms when I decided to return.

I take the exit towards TX-49 and pass Buffalo, TX (population 1,072). It starts to rain.

Brownyellowbrownyellow.

The speed limit is 75, but I'm stuck behind a Dodge Caravan doing 62 down a one-lane road.

"You like Taylor Swift, Kayla?"

She shrugs, then shakes her head.

"I like her sometimes, but all of her songs are about boys."

She pauses.

"It's weird."

At least she still thinks boys are gross. Either that or she's matured enough to know what to say to make me happy.

The conversation turns back to Disney princesses. Snow White and Cinderella are our least favorites because they're boring. Having recently watched Maleficent, we talk about which villains we'd like to see get their own movies. Kayla says Ursula. I say Jafar.

All this princess talk has us in a Disney mood so I put on the Disney station on Pandora. We sing along to songs from Mulan and Aladdin. We sing "Little Town" together (Bonjour!). I do a solo rendition of "Part of Your World."

When we get to Paris, we will be disappointed. There's not much to do aside from taking a photo with their version of the Eiffel Tower, which we will do as fast as we can because it will be 30 degrees outside. Three quick pics. Hashtag paristx. Tags and @'s and check-ins.

We will then head to Dallas where we'll have dinner at Medieval Times. Kayla will be a bored teen, rolling her eyes whenever the waitress serves us "roasted dragon" (roasted chicken) and "dragon eggs" (baked potatoes). Until the knights start fighting. At which point the both of us will resort back to children, ooh-ing and aww-ing at the sparks that appear when the knights clang swords.

One reason Kayla and I get along so well is that I can be a kid around her.

Things will change. Kayla will become a teen, then go on to high school, then college. I might be close by as she goes through those phases. I might not.

But at this moment, on this drive towards Paris, she is my kid sister. And I am her big brother. And I am happy to have had the chance to spend time with her.