S is for Sister: Installment 6

With another quarter of Brynn in our world's also came another 3 months worth of sisterly bonding.  The entire length of which was spent sharing a room together in the apartment, so bonding was their middle name.  "Cause space is just a a word made up by someone who's afraid to get CLOSE, ohh ohhhhhh."  Oh, pardon me.  I got carried away.  Let's skip to the pictures before this turns into karaoke hour, huh?

The cutest patrons I've ever seen at Sherwin Williams.  I wouldn't ask them about Repose Gray vs Colonnade Gray though.  They weren't so helpful.

I caught the very tail end of these two plotting to get some snacks Daddy and I had hidden on a shelf we believed they could not reach.  That step stool wasn't our best purchase.

Emery Tip #1,097:  Nothing makes you look more like a professional firefighter than an absurdly low center of gravity.

I can't even.  How cute are these two?!

I dunnooooooo.

Dance party.  (If this picture were 0.2 second later, it would have been a Flash Dance party).

Teaching sister the delicate art of jumping on furniture.  Important part of the lesson is making sure to choose an evening late in the week, after dinner and bathtime, when Mom and Dad are too tired to really argue you on it.

Running around like hooligans in Em's room.

In case you are worried it's all butterflies and rainbows.

"See Brynn, this is where you press the button to purchase something without Mom and Dad knowing til they get their next ATT statement."

We loooooove us some Great Harvest.

I know it's dark.  I know Daddy's beer ruins this picture.  But those sweet, sweet profiles.  I never, ever want to forget them.

Checking out the animals at Clay's. 

Chim chimeny, chim chimeny, chim chim charooooo!  Emmy Poppins at your service.

Nothing makes you feel comfortable when you're out and about solo like receiving this picture from your hubs at home.  Parenting like a boss.

Probably not the last time these two conspire to break into my purse.  Thankfully I don't think they can forge my signature.... yet.

Take my hand and follow me to the Promiseland, weary birthday party goer.  A land filled with red, white and BBQ sauce.  A land where people say, "my pleasure," to your every request.  A land called Chick-Fil-A.

I can't decide if I should be more confused as to how our toy coffee pot made it into HEB or alarmed that my children look so jazzed up about coffee.

Brynn demolished this.  Neither the ice cream, nor the spoon, stood a chance.

I would bet an all expenses paid trip to Target that the last word before this picture was "MY!" (mine)

Babies having babies.  Welcome to the fam, Bebe/Twinkle!

Em: Do you think they know we lined our pockets with peanut butter crackers before they finished getting ready?  Brynn:  No.  Gah, we're good.  Hope they don't check the car seats after we get out at school.