Saturday, July 13, 2013

The Protector...

So the other day I swung by my mom and dad's house to bake some cookies for a baby shower here in the neighborhood (we are officially one month without a functioning kitchen over here).  No one was home, so I went to check things out in my old bedroom (where I sometimes find treasures like old books or clothes).  As I walked past my old bathroom, I heard my 13-year-old sister and her best friend singing while they were getting ready.  Sophie (aforementioned 13-year-old sister) has transformed from my little baby girl into an eye-rolling, "whatever mom"-ing, texting machine.  As I walked past the bathroom, I heard the friend say, "Sophie, someone is in the house".  I closed that bedroom door behind me, locked it, and listened.  I can't resist freaking Sophie out.  I can't.

So I hear them coming up with the plan in hushed tones.  I hear a tentative knock at the door, I don't answer, but I slam a couple of drawers shut to let her know that yes, someone IS in the house.  She waveringly calls, "hello?".  Nothing.  I hear a second knock.  I slowly walk towards the door, rattle the knob, and open the door.

There is my baby sister, in fighter stance, fire in her eyes, all 70 pounds of her, wielding the toilet brush.  Funniest thing I've ever seen. It takes a second, but she recognizes me and jumps, throws the weapon in my direction, and tries to get her best friend to stop laughing at her.  We had a little chat after the "incident" about how if she thinks someone is in the house, the toilet brush probably isn't the best solution.

No comments:

Post a Comment