Little Dickens

My folks are out in Arizona helping my brother and s-i-l before their second baby is born. And it's been a rare treat for me. Because the most help they can be right now is to take care of my nephew. So, I get all the little deets on what my adorable little nephew has been up to.

Sadly, for his parents, the kid is a smart little bugger. And if you want to have a placid life as a parent, you'd better hope your kid isn't smarter than the average bear. Especially, when he gets a stubborn gene from one of his aunts, and an inventive streak of toddler petty theft from the other. Man, heredity can be a bitch.

And it's all a ton of fun for me. I finally get revenge by proxy for all those years my little brother was a pain in my patootie. [I engage in a hearty Errol Flynn laugh - ha! ha! ha!] For as amusing as the anecdotes from his soccer class are (evidently 2-year old soccer involves standing on a spot, then running to kick an orange cone when it's your turn), it's not nearly as funny as when he crawls on a dresser to steal a bar of hand-made oatmeal soap from the craft fair and then when he gets caught runs out of the room with the soap bar in his teeth (evidently the boy runs better with his hands free - told ya he's smart). Ah, it's an image to make ya smile.

So, for any older sister out there, who feels the pinch of that elder status, when it seems like your younger sibs get away with murder - your time will come. Indeed, your time will come.