Shh, Don't Tell Them

Shh, Georgie, don't tell them. Remember how we figured out how to move the fireplace grate? You pried open the corner over and over again and Mama held it shut. You cried and got her to carry you around while I crawled over and had free access while she wasn't looking. 

     I appreciate your assistance showing me how to pull the crib blankets through the slats. While Mama picked up yours I managed to get mine out right behind her. We are a good team, except when you use my head as a nail. I developed my rear foot move to propel you out of the way before the kitchen pot lands on my head, again. I am trying to forgive you for that. And for stealing my favorite shaker. Oh, and one more thing. I hate that you came out first. I will always be the youngest. That stinks.

  However, I will always be the cutest. You betcha, that's me.

This post is part of a series entitled, "Pictures and Paragraphs". A little bit of fiction writing to enhance a favorite image or painting.
 See an index of these posts here.