In two days, my baby sister, Erin, will celebrate her 21st birthday and officially shed the shadows of adolescence for the raw reality of adulthood.

She also will be able to walk into any bar, anywhere in the world, and buy alcohol with her real driver's license.

For much of my life I have thought of Erin as a child, someone needing protection, guidance and mentoring.

Unfortunately, for much of my life I have been the last person from whom she should accept guidance, protection and mentoring.

Further complicating matters is that my sister is really pretty, and I have taken all kinds of heat from my friends.

My friends mercilessly taunt me, and random dudes are always checking her out.

Mention my sister in any context around my friend Evan and he goes in for the kill.

"I'd make her happy Peter. I'd be a good husband," he said last week, while I invited him to her birthday party. "It's cool if we date, right?"

Such are the realities of life with a looker.

A lot of men deal with this dilemma, a younger sister whom your friends think is hot.

It's miserable, and now she can drink without my help. Sweet.

Six years separate my sister and me — I can still remember the day she came home from the hospital, six days after she was born.

My old man had recently attempted to relive his youth in our backyard on my Mongoose bike, and one leg was encased from foot to pelvis in a cast.

He learned the hard way that middle-aged men should not try to jump brick walls. Yet despite his lack of mobility, he was grinning from ear to ear while holding Erin, who fit in the crook of his arm.

As a kid, I used to use Erin for entertainment.

She liked to dump food all over herself when she was small, and so when my mom wasn't looking, I would push large portions of rice or chocolate in front of her. Almost on cue, Erin would grab handfuls of the stuff and smash it into her face and I would lose it laughing.

I changed my sister's diapers and made sure she didn't roll off the bed while my mom showered or cooked dinner.

As I got older and she became more irritating, I did as any good brother should and tortured her mercilessly. I would hide her "special" blanket or yell at her for disturbing my baseball card collection.

She claims I scared her, I say I showed her exactly the type of guys to stay away from. And it has worked, for the most part. Her boyfriend is a mellow surfer and a strong family man who keeps her smiling.

Erin has always been capable and confident while possessing a sense of self I have always envied.

I wish her well as she leaves her young adulthood behind, and I hope the world treats her well.

To me, she will always be the buzz-cut baby with food falling off her face.

Reach Peter Boylan at pboylan@honoluluadvertiser.com. Read his daily blog at blogs.honoluluadvertiser.com.