I Could Eat Her Up

Posted on February 11, 2010
Filed Under Daily, Family, Little Kids Smell, My Best Friend is an 8 Year Old, The Gang: Little BFF & Co. | 6 Comments

Ever since The Boss and I left for L.A., Little BFF has been the only one of my cousins’ four kids who really understands what it means when someone moves away. She gets that I live in another state, which happens to be a four hour plane ride away, whereas the others know I’m in “California” but that doesn’t explain to them why The Boss and I aren’t coming over anymore. It reminds me of when I was like 5, and my cousin told me he was a freshman in college, and I was like, “What does that mean?” and he goes, “I’m in the 13th grade” and I was all, “Boy, you crazy!”

Little BFF knows that although The Boss and I are here temporarily, it’s not always easy to make it back to the east coast when monumental things happen in her life — like when she got her first tooth pulled last week. If you follow me on twitter, then you know that she called me the moment she was able to feel her face again to share the big news. Her exact words were, “Sibby! I’ve been wanting to talk to you! I got my first tooth pulled today, and I only cried a little!”

And my heart melted right there, all over my keyboard.

But this post isn’t about Little BFF, it’s about her Little Punk sister.
Because of all the snow in the D.C. Metro Area, the federal government has pretty much shut down, and all schools everywhere are closed for like the next 100 years, so my mom, cousins, and their little ones have been having sleepovers like every night. The other day, while snowed in, my mom found the Little Punk hanging around in my room playing with some of my jewelry. Now let me explain that the Little Punk knows that she has been FORBADE (by Yours Truly) to ever, under any circumstances, enter my room. Ever. But because I play favorites, and am not at all ashamed of my cruelty toward small children, I made an announcement at Sunday Dinner a few years ago that Little Bff was to be knighted with the privilege of entering my room whenever she pleased — even if I wasn’t home. And the simple reason was because she was harmless (read: didn’t break my things, or steal) and because she’s my favorite. Upon making that announcement, Little BFF’s punk brother, and sister let out a collective, “Aww” that was coated with an extra thick layer of disappointment. Their sadness made my heart sing.

So I’m on the phone with my mom last night who’s filling me in on the Little Punk hanging in my room. Apparently, this is what happened: My mom walked through the hallway, saw the Little Punk playing at my vanity, and goes, “Hi, Little. What are you doing?” The Little Punk turned to my mom, held up a piece of my jewelry, and said, ” I think this bracelet is too small for Sibby.”

To which my mom replied, “No, Little. I think it’s too big for you.”

Oh that face.
It could get away with giving The Pope a wedgie.

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