Hello, everybody, let me introduce myself: I’m Charlie. And let me introduce my sister, who you already know: Ava Reese. You might be asking yourself, if you’re reading this in chronological order, Self, why is Charlie introducing himself during his second post? Well, I’ll tell you — because this isn’t my second post. That’s right, folks. Because my “legendary” sister hacked my previously non-existent account, and wrote up her own version of The Chanicles, v. 1, AKA A Chach is Born. That’s right, that fawning post about my wonderful sister, who’s “blazing her own path at the tender age of two”? Simmer down, Sis.
Why would she do such a thing? You’ve met her, right? Ava does what she does, and to her credit, it’s usually for the betterment of us all, provided that first and foremost it makes her laugh. But I suspect there’s another reason why she did it: pure jealousy. Look, I’m 15 months younger than her, and I weigh 2 pounds less than she does. I’m not just big, I’m big-time. (And yes, I figured out the italics key, too.) I crawl into her personal space, and I take what I want. Hey, I’m not even saying that’s okay. It’s rude, frankly. But I’m also 10 months old, and she has to allow for my relative youth and immaturity. So what does she do when I show up and dominate in an impromptu game of Snatch-the-Paci? Does she gently confront me, use it as a teaching moment? No, she goes behind my back and writes up a fake blog post praising herself to the skies. Talk about passive-aggressive.
I mean — look — I love old girl, and I’ll cut her a lot of slack. She’s a cut-up. You gotta love that about her. And to be honest, it doesn’t even bother me that much. You know, she’ll get hers. I’ll show up before she expects it, using my patented Quick-Crawl method, take whatever it is that she’s playing with, sit on my ass and just turn around and do whatever, like it’s nothing but a thing. Then she’ll start wailing like Trump does when he’s criticized by a woman (You’re not treating me nicely! My hair is on fire! No it’s not, that’s just the way y hair looks! Bwaaahhhhh!), and she’ll say through her crocodile tears — I love this — “Baby Cha Cha”– and the rest will be incomprehensible. But what she will mean to say is, “Baby Cha Cha, 15 months my junior, waltzed in here and took my stuff, and there was nothing I could do about it.” And you will see not even the remotest hint of a reaction from Yours Truly. Because I’m just a baby. Heh heh.
Below are a couple of pics of us before my growth spurt, and a couple after. Times have changed, Ava Reese. Times have changed.