These days I get to see the world from down under. I watch Proximo take the kind of violent love and abuse that only happens among siblings (and stupid teenagers.) From the moment that El Guille jumps into his crib in the morning to wake him up, to the moment El Guille jumps in his crib at night to ‘play,’ Proximo takes it, well, like a baby. In just one day I witnessed that baby get kicked, rolled on, smacked in the car, nearly suffocated with blankets, pinched, hit with a toy, and peed on.
I’M SORRY MOM because I know I did things just as bad to my siblings—except for the P stuff, I’m pretty sure that’s a snips and snails thing.
So thanks, Mom, for having me today all those years ago (even if you don’t read my blog because you can’t be bothered and therefore don’t get to read the apologetic gratitude.)
Oh, and thanks for howling with laughter tonight when I told you that Proximo was his brother’s target practice for the third time in seven days.
What do I want for my birthday? For my kids not to P on each other.
Too much to ask?