Brooklyn and Boston.... Best Buds

For the record, Brooklyn will not be allowed to date until she is 34, but I MAY make an exception for Boston. He and Brooklyn are ice cream and chocolate. They absolutely AMAZE me with how well they get along! I have to record some highlights from their day so that I'll have something to hang over their heads when I'm a little older and turn into my parents.

First, they run into the Sailor Play Room (also known as Brighton's room that he doesn't sleep in... also known as Brooklyn's Big Girl Room because occasionally she sleeps two hours in there before she wakes up the neighborhood screaming MOMMAY!) There is a cute kitchen my mom built and it’s equipped with plastic food, plastic dishes, and an array of beverages. Boston's eyes light up every time he walks in there and the next words out of his mouth are, "Ummm we can play house! An Brook Brook can be the Mommy and my can be the Daddy!" (She's two. He's three). Brooklyn always squeals with delight and says, "YE-EH! We can play house!" She agrees with anything Boston says. He could say, "Brooklyn, let’s go collect flying monkeys and let them nibble off our toes," and Brooklyn would say, with STARS in her eyes, "YE-EAH monkeys and our toes!"

So they began playing house. It’s comical the things little ones pick up on. They know they need to have children. And, maybe because they are both from LDS families, they assume they need to have LOTS of children. So they collect ALL of Brooklyn's baby dolls and sit them up so that they can "feed" them. Six babies. One baby gets a bottle. The second baby gets a hamburger, french fries, and a jalapeño pepper. Those are the only two babies they feed. I ask, “What about the OTHER four babies? Are you going to feed them?” Boston said, “Umm… no. Dees babies need to go to bed.” I looked to Brooklyn for some sign of motherhood. BUT she stood behind her man, “Ye-eah! They HAF ta go night-night.” But on second thought, maybe they needed a bath. Well ONE needed a bath. So Brooklyn dunked the baby head first into the tub and then got distracted with a horse Boston held up, “This can be the pet horse for our house!” Brooklyn thought that was FABULOUS. So one baby slept face down in the bathtub, and the OTHER five slept in the “baby bed” which is a basket that would comfortably fit ONE baby, BUT can stuff five babies if you pile them on top of each other and sit on them as Boston proved possible.

Finally they remembered the baby in the bathtub, but only because they needed that space to hold their three pet dinosaurs. And then Brooklyn’s Barbies joined the family. Boston didn’t look thrilled about the Barbies invading his home, but, like every good man, he bit his tongue and let the wife do her THING. When Brooklyn wasn’t looking, he made all the Barbies nose dive out of the stroller to make room the stuffed dogs that he found.

When Brooklyn came across some bubbles, she and Boston blew bubbles all through the house giggling and frolicking like two little deer. Then they took turns throwing tennis balls at my fridge. This was ESpECiaLLY amusing because CHARKLEY is the SOLE owner of EVERY tennis ball in my house. (Or so he thinks). So every time they would throw the ball, Charkley would run 20 miles an hour after the ball only to watch the ball bounce off the fridge. He’d attempt to run the other way, but his momentum wouldn’t let him and he’d skid on the tile INTO the fridge, bounce off and fly towards the ball. But before he’d get to it, another ball was zooming over his head. He’d abandon the first ball and run after the last one thrown. You would have thought we had clowns falling off their tight ropes in the kitchen. Brooklyn and Boston were laughing so hard I had to keep telling them not to pee on the carpet.

THEN we went outside. I played the donkey and pulled them UP and DOWN the road in the little red wagon. Brooklyn said, “Boston, I want you to lay down wif me.” So the two of them lay in the wagon, Boston letting his arm rest around Brooklyn’s shoulders. While I trudged along wheezing like a chain smoker, the two of them sang “Butterfly Butterfly happy all DAY!” at the top of their little lungs. They sounded SOOO sweet together that I started making song requests. Brooklyn quickly said, “Mommy, puh-leeze stop.” I guess I’m already an embarrassment to my TWO year old. I think they should sing a duet in church.

Then they swam and swung and slid. (Try saying that three times fast). Boston didn’t want to leave and Brooklyn didn’t want him to leave, either. They are just the best of friends!

or" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">