Monday, February 11, 2008

Oh, Brother, What a Bothr!

Youngest is always bothering Daughter to play with him. He pleads. He begs. He threatens. He cries. He offers up bribe money. He screams. He slams doors. [Well, he does the equivalent of slamming doors because he knows he's not allowed to slam doors in this house.]

In short, he will do anything to get her to play with him. The more intense he becomes, the less interested she is in giving in to him and playing with him.

Last night, he wrote this. (I whited out their names.) I said it was just perfect because it meant I had something for the blog today. [I am such a crappy mother.]
Sorry. So Sorry
I don't know if she will accept it for what it is: a note from the heart of a little boy. I'm hopeful she doesn't ridicule his sound-spelling. [In fact, I'd better go talk to her about that point right now, as soon as I'm done.]

It's tough being the youngest, especially when the next oldest child wishes you had never been born.


I mentioned to Eldest the other night that I had a fairly wide open day Friday. Writer that he is, he wondered if I would perhaps like a wri...