Socks Without Partners

I'm thinking, Mom...hang on...

Being 4 is tough. There are so many things to think about...like when/if I will ever get a haircut, if I should pound my brother into the sandbox, whether I can hide some ants in my sister's bed, whether I'd be willing to get close enough to the ants to capture them to transport them to my sister's bed, whether I'd have enough Cootie Spray to be adequately and safely protected from touching my sister's bed...

Mom: "Hey, Bren! You're my favorite...?"
Bren: "FOUR-YEAR-OLD!"

Four is great. Two, not so great. Twelve and a half, even worse. Sixteen...oy vey. (Happy almost birthday, Blake.)

posted by JSY @ 9:34 AM