Would You Like a Cup of Tea?

My mother's been having fantasies about murdering my sister after discovering she's stolen around $4000 over the past three months. Once the fantasies got to the level of "and then I'll wrap the body in a tarp...." specificity derived from a devotion to Law And Order reruns it was time to pack the little sugar pie off to rehab (again).
It's like a great weight has been lifted off me, having her gone. Just being able to come and go from my parent's house without the fear of finding her corpse or not finding her corpse and leaving it for my mom to discover makes it like fucking Christmas.
This morning my darling was selecting her most fetching tank tops and prompting me to sing, to the tune of "Leaving on a Jetplane" a song about dressing sexy for a new rehab boyfriend. But later tonight she called my parents in a less chipper mood. I'd like to be able to say that we are all immune to her pity inducing cries but damn, nothing does pathetic like a narcissistic junkie and we decided that it didn't strictly violate the new tough-love standards to bring her her blankie...but she's not getting it until thursday.