My sister had a baby. Brenna – that’s her name. She’s this super tiny thing that I want to hold and bounce around and teach. And by teach, I mean bond with. And by bond with, I mean corrupt.
Who knows if I’m going to have my own kids? This could be my best chance to mold the youth of America to my liking. I’m totally all about quitting my job and teaching Brenna about the wonders of the world, starting with General Hospital. She can’t grow up in a world where Luke and Laura aren’t in her vernacular. I won’t allow it! And who’s going to tell her that it’s okay to watch Hannah Montana (even when you’re 24)? My dad won’t tell her that. He will totally tell her the opposite of that. Listen up, Brenna. Don’t let go of your youth. When it’s 12am and you should be sleeping because you’re a member of the “real world,” do not hesitate to stay up late watching the Disney Channel instead. You can sleep at your desk tomorrow.
And who, I ask you, is going to teach her to play soccer? ME. Because Brenna, soccer is the only acceptable sport for a lady to play. You get down, you get dirty, and you get to kick stuff. Those are life lessons, my friend. I still kick stuff. Like ass. (I also take names, on occasion).
Most importantly, I plan to teach her to say hilarious things. We’ve already started. I taught her 4 words in Spanish because I want her to be a saucy bilingual minx. However, I’ve also said as many hilarious slang words as I can whilst in her presence. Fo shizzle, Brenna. This technique works quite well. Ask my dad, he now says “hanging and banging.” “What are we doing, Brenna? GrandDuff, we are just hanging and banging” – I taught him that phrase and yes, I did hear him say that to her in the hospital room.
So, Brenna, my little homeslice, I can’t wait to hang out with you. We can watch Wizards of Waverly Place and then I’ll teach you how to do the Macarena. Fun times already.
– Sarah #2