So I went downstairs to load some laundry. I came back upstairs and Zane was nowhere to be found. Nathan was looking more than a little guilty so I asked him, “Nathan? Where’s brother???”
“Um, I don’t know? Um…” Replied Nathan [insert The Thinly-Vieled Smile of The Guilty.]
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the pile a pillows on the floor move. I picked a few pillows up and lo and behold, there sat Zane with a smile on his face.
“Nathan, we do not bury brother. It’s not nice” became yet another item on our Things We Do Not Do To Brother list.
Other items on this rule list:
We do not put bowls on brother’s head. The same goes for food, blankets, water, paint, play dough, and dirt.
Speaking of his head, it is not to be used as a mountain for his matchbox car to conquer, a helicopter launch pad, and absolutely under no circumstances may it be used as a t-ball stand[!!!!].
We do not put a laundry basket on top of Zane and sit on it. I don’t care if he is a “lion” or an “alien” or whatever he is therein deemed to be. No laundry baskets on brother, period.
Brother may not be blamed for bringing a chair to the counter, climbing on it, and eating all the frosting off of the cupcakes I just made. He’s eight months old, for goodness’ stakes and only one of the boys have frosting all over them and it’s not the little one, so there.
To be continued….