the baby in the family like you see in sitcoms. As we were walking out the door to go for a walk, Rowan and Jory stand at the door and asked, “Why can’t we go on a walk with you?”
I turned to answer them, but before I could, I hear, “You don’t listen!” coming from the baby.
“Layla, I don’t need your help,” I informed her.
She nodded.
“Remember you weren’t listening yesterday? You wanted to play instead of clean up the toys,” I gently reminded them.
They nodded and locked the door as the baby and I walked down the driveway. As we were half way past the neighbor’s house, I noticed our door swinging open. I ran to the base of our driveway and shouted, “Close the door!”
As I overheard Jory and Rowan arguing over who got to lock the door, the baby piped in with, “Shut the door, guys!”
“Layla, zip it,” I quickly commanded.
“Okay,” she answered.
When did she become that kid? Telling her siblings why they were in trouble, parroting me, telling her siblings what to do. I’m pretty sure this is how Joseph got sold.
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