You and Natalie have been racing a lot this month. Well, you've been 'racing' as long as you've been able to run, but you've been racing where there's an actual winner for only a few weeks. And, being three years shorter (I would get out my measuring tape to find the actual difference in your heights, but I just sat down with a steamy cup of coffee, so I'll just remain seated and estimate [using years and not inches, I know]), you often lose. And it's like a flip switched this month. Before, when Natalie won, it didn't even phase you. But now? It's the most Critical Level of Sadness and Agony, complete with Hysterical Stomping and Maniacal Screaming.
After church on Sundays, you and Natalie like to run down the hill toward the sidewalk. Before this month, you two would laugh gleefully as you ran down the hill, even though Natalie would always win. But this month? You two started out laughing gleefully, but after a nanosecond, you realized Natalie was faster than you, so you threw yourself on the hill, kicking and screaming because she made it to the sidewalk first. It's a good thing we're surrounded by sympathetic, Jesus-lovin' folks (who I'm sure have all dealt with public tantrums), because, dang. It's a tad bit (read: ginormously) unpleasant.
And yesterday at bedtime, Natalie went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. You were finishing up some Important Lego Building, so you were about two minutes behind her. When you were done, you ran to the bathroom and literally lost your ever-loving mind when you saw her standing on the stool, mid-brush. You two weren't even racing to the bathroom, but yet, there you sat, on the floor of the bathroom, in the Depths of Despair, because Natalie got to the bathroom before you. All I can say is just wait, dude, because give yourself a year or two, and you might smoke Natalie in a foot race. (Don't tell her I said that though.)
You spent the majority of this past month sleeping in Natalie's room due to the Epic Yellow Jacket Infestation 2014 (promotional t-shirts coming soon). You loved sleeping in her room (even if it was in a sleeping bag on her floor). She wasn't the biggest fan, mainly because she likes to have her own space, but I still appreciated her being such a good sport about it. I'm a younger sibling, so I get it - there's nothing cooler than an older sibling, and while we may come across as pester-y and annoying, that's the best way we know how to express our position of Number One Fan. You're back in your room now (much to your dismay and Natalie's relief), but that doesn't stop you from coming into her room and inviting yourself to play with her. And again, because I'm a younger sibling, I think that's totally acceptable for you to do.
You've had a finicky appetite this month. Things you usually like (yogurt, orange peppers, grilled cheese) have been largely ignored when on your plate. I refuse to cater 100% to your preferred diet of bread, string cheese, biscuits, chocolate, dinner rolls, bacon, cornbread, clementines, chicken nuggets, and apples - but goodness, I sure wish you'd expand your culinary preferences.
You call your piggy bank a 'piggy boink'. It's fall-out-of-my-chair precious.
Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy
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Headlines for December 9, 2014:
- Torture Report Reveals CIA's 'Brutal' Interrogation Tactics
- Precious Cargo: Woman Delivers Baby on Plane
- Prince William and Duchess Kate Charm New York on First Visit
- Ken Weatherwax, Pugsley from 'The Addams Family,' dies at 59
- Fire in downtown Los Angeles may have been intentionally set
- Wife of South African hostage killed in attempted rescue operation says she forgives
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