Saturday Mornings with the Trio

Waiting for the genius Ewe Know to rewind (why did they stop making this series?), I noticed crayon markings on the television.

"Who drew on the TV?" I asked, 99% sure it was Layla.

"Roro." "Baby." The trio answered at once.

The baby pointed at Rowan, while Jory and Rowan pointed at the baby.

"Mommy, it was the baby," Rowan confirmed.

"No, Roro," the baby countered.

"The baby's telling a story," Jory interjected.

This seemed like something the baby would do.

Once upon a time there existed a five-year-old who thought drawing lines on his mommy's lamp and climbing on top of the sink to outline the bathroom window with a black Sharpie was a good idea. The same five-year-old only the night before thought it was a smart idea to write his name on his leg at AWANA while "recovering" from an "eye injury." Though to be fair, this five-year-old only wrote his name in red marker on his leg so people could know his name. And to be extra fair, he only did that because he saw his cousin, who was visiting Sparks with him, had a name tag on and he wanted everyone to know his name, too. Maybe I should have explained to this once upon a time five-year-old that AWANA was like Cheers, a place where everybody knows your name and they're always glad you came; but that might have been a bit over his head.

I decided to take the middle ground in case anyone got the bright idea to ever draw, write, or color on anything other than paper or a coloring book.

"No one can color or draw on the TV," I responded, looking directly at the baby.

The baby turned to her right and reprimanded her sister, "Stop it, Roro!"

That baby is going to be the death of me. The conviction in her little two-year-old face. Rowan was the guilty party in her mind and that was never going to change. How can someone wearing 18 month pants seem so innocent, yet be so guilty? How can someone so young be so quick to throw someone else under the bus? I guess that answer is easy, watching and listening to older siblings.

When my first baby started pre-school, I discovered how evil other people's children were. Yes, my baby was/is an angel, after all he is the second greatest Christmas present ever. But nowadays when I see or hear some of the things my youngest does and says, I think, wow, older siblings are like little "disobeying as manna and quail fall from the sky" Israelites. You gotta love them. You do love them, but sometimes- -