Raising a Mini-Me is Wicked Awesome

“Baby? Can you get me a diaper? Baby Dude pooped!”

“In a seeeeconnnnd!” Baby Sis responds, calling to me from what sounded like the bathroom.

“Baby? I need it now. I’m already wiping him.”

“{Loud grumpy exhale} Fine!”

I hear the door squeak, footsteps, wrestling of plastic, more footsteps, and then an angry toddler hovering ahead, holding the diaper practically in my face, huffy and agitated. “Y’know, mommy, sometimes you haff to do some fings foy yoursewf, you know.”

Holy hell, I’m raising a such a parent.

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