This Little Sister Thing

Hey there, guys. Jack here. You've probably heard of me, but if you haven't, let's just say my dad calls me "Mr. Dude" most of the time and "crazy" the rest. 'Nuff said.

I had the feeling you were tired of all this way high and serious grown-up talk blogging, so I'm here to bring you the low down on this little sister thing.

First off, we're talking a lot of fuss here. I mean, I've been holding down the "baby" slot in this family for a while, and let me tell you, I've got it covered. Opening doors, dumping out pantry bins, stealing bananas, climbing into Mom and Dad's bed in the middle of the night; I've got the territory covered and -- if I may say so myself -- I'm so dang cute doing it that it's hard to be mad at me.

Now, I'm not selfish or anything, and so if they want to bring in another baby, I'm willing to show him (or even her) the ropes. But pleeeease!. This little sister thing they've brought in is no good for anything. I try to give her a toy truck, and there someone is saying, "No! Jack!" Give her some lessons on getting off the bed? No dice. Even giving her a solid, brotherly pat on the head and everyone's like, "Jack! Not so rough! She's tiny."

Yeah, no kidding. Tiny.

I mean, don't get me wrong. The small ones can be fun. Look at me. But honestly, this Diana chick looks a lot more like a doll than anything else so far as I can tell. All she does is lie around and do something or other in mommy's arms which looks vaguely familiar -- I'm sure I could remember something about it if I tried, but seriously, who has the time? I mean, I've got toy cars and dinosaurs and knights to sort out.

I tried to give some of the dinosaurs to this sister thing, because hey, I'm a generous guy. But no. She's all sobs and everyone runs in and says, "No! Jack!" Sheesh. Last time I help a girl out if that's the reaction. I mean, really, I think this girl has promise, but every time we really start to get some good brother sister activities going, some adult comes in shouting and carrying me off by one arm. Which is fun, but come on guys. It's not like you're dealing with some 18-month-old here who doesn't know the territory.

You want to know how far I've gone to try to make this work? I even gave the sister thing a banana. Yeah, that's right. A banana. Does it get better than that? I mean, I could eat bananas all day. (And I do until we run out each week.) But she just tried to suck on it a bit and then dropped it.

What. Is. That?

So, I dunno, guys. I'm going to try to keep up my end here. But meantime this girls doesn't seem to have much going on. And Mom and Dad keep trying to make me sleep in the crib rather than in what I know is the true domain of all dudes who know how to open doors and pad around the house on their own: their bed. So we'll see how that one goes, but I'm confident they'll swerve first.

Well, I gotta go, but you stay cool, y'all. And if you have any ideas for getting some activity out of this sister thing, let me know.