I’m going to dedicate this post to the luxurious lifestyle that my three-year-old sister lives. I’m not writing this because she deserves it. She’s a little brat who gets whatever she wants. But it’s honestly the best thing ever and I think more people should be like her.
Let me introduce you guys to Baby. She’s exactly that. She’s a three year old girl with six older siblings, two parents, four grandparents and even a set of great-grandparents. She basically has a fan club because everyone adores her. Every time I come home I’m like, “Where’s Baby?” and my dad or sister will respond, “She’s at the spa.”
Lol just kidding. But really, Baby is always out and about. She’s traveled more than I have. Everyone always wants to hang out with her. But she usually doesn’t have time. She’s always really busy watching her favorite shows on her iPad.
Sunday I finally got the chance to hang out with Baby. Her iPad was dead and the dog was asleep so she had time for me. We went to Starbucks because Baby loves chocolate chip frost-puh-cheenos. We were patiently waiting in line for our frostpuhcheenos, and I saw a cake pop in the display window. I thought to myself, “Baby would like one of those.” So I kneeled down and asked, “Baby, have you ever had a cake pop?” She screamed. “NO! I DON’T WANT THAT, I WANT WHAT I GOT LAST TIME!!!” Baby doesn’t like change. So I did what any sane person would do. I bought myself a cake pop, and I made sure to secretly order her one too.
When I pulled my cake pop out of the bag, Baby’s eyes lit up. “Wow… it’s so beautiful!” She exclaimed. So I gave her the second one. Yeah, that’s what I thought. She got really excited and started to lick the cake pop like a lollipop.
Now, for those of you who haven’t had a cake pop before, you don’t just lick it. You have to take little bites out of it to get any cake. Baby didn’t really understand that. I tried to explain it to her but she wouldn’t have it. Now, at this point, my other sister Victoria decided she should show Baby how to do it. (Bad idea.) Victoria grabbed Baby’s cake pop, and took the tiniest bite out of it. “Look Baby, eat it like this!” I kid you not, all hell broke loose. Baby snatched that cake pop back, screamed, and banged her tiny little fists on the table. I think she may have said something along the lines of “DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, OR ELSE!” Yes, really. I quietly warned her, as the other patrons were starting to stare at this little monster that was sitting in my lap. “Baby, don’t be ugly, or we’ll go back home.” Baby really doesn’t give a crap. She was fed up at this point. She took the cake pop, and hurled it at a trashcan nearby. At this point, I’m just looking around asking whose kid this is. But here’s the worst part. Baby turns to me and says, “Go buy me another one.” I laughed. “No way. You owe me a dollar now.” Needless to say, our Starbucks trip was cut short.
My point is this: Baby is demanding. She is expectant. And most of the time she gets whatever she wants.
Baby never returns from a Wal-Mart trip empty handed. She never comes back from vacation without a couple of the best souvenirs. My sisters and I get t-shirts and Baby gets expensive jewelry. I’m exaggerating a little.
She gets happy meals and Barbie Jeeps. I had to split 20 piece McNuggets with my sisters when we were younger. We didn’t need a whole meal because “we had drinks at home.”
Sometimes my grandma Facetimes me and she’ll be like “Hi Sam… Where’s Baby?” I’ll walk over to Baby with my phone and Baby will barely acknowledge my grandma’s face on the screen and go back to her show on her iPad. Meanwhile my grandma is trying to hold a conversation with Baby’s forehead. Baby’s time is sacred. If it isn’t beneficial to her, she’s out. She’s THREE. I can’t even imagine the teenage version of Baby.
Baby came home from Wal-Mart in tears the other day because my mom wouldn’t buy her a $140 Barbie Dream House. I tried to explain this to Baby.
“Baby… that dream house is $140…”
“Well, do you have that much dollars?”
“I mean, yeah.. But-”
“Then why don’t you use them?”
Touche, Baby. Touche.