I kidnapped my little brother from my family's home today. Really--apparently my father was half-awake when he gave Dalliwag the "go ahead" to come to my home for a few days. I recruited his help and company for the bachelorette party tomorrow. Don't worry--he's not planning on coming to provide any sort of live entertainment. Yuck. Can't believe I even wrote that. He's just the babysitter, and a pretty good one at that.
If I had to pinpoint Dallin's babysitting superpower, it's that he's funny. He won't talk about real things--whenever I ask him any sort of serious question like, "How did you scratch your nose?" he responds with, "It's a battle scar!" And, then when I probe him, "No, really--it looks like it hurts, what happened?" He says, "MJ, how many times do I have to tell you--I got it in battle." And he won't let up. It's not that anything embarrassing caused the scab...I eventually squeezed out the real info (that he bumped it on the bottom of the pool), but for some reason he thinks it's great to torture me with misinformation. Atrain loves it too. He has been saying, "Silly Dalliwag," all day long. Oh so silly. Can't wait to have teenage boys.
ONCE upon a time, in a land not so far away, there was a queen. She lived a lovely life in her cottage sized castle with her husband and their three sons: Atrain the brave-heart; Jdog the jolly; and Doodle, the daring baby. The queen had a good heart, and she loved her boys with every piece of it. Every day in Frandsenland she works and plays and does her very best NOT to be evil. Sometimes she succeeds. This is her diary.
I think it is wonderful that your little brother wants to help and is so very good at it. He's a good egg.
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