As the parent of three children, you soon realize that the last child often gets the very short end of the stick. As an example, Amanda has at least half a dozen photo albums that contain only pictures of her, Alison has maybe one or two, Alexa...we've yet to send those pictures to Costco to be printed.
Today, we were in a real rush to make it to our halau potluck on time. We had run to the grocery store and then to Mc Donalds to pick up lunch. Dave and I rushed inside, each carrying armloads of bags. I started cooking for the potluck and Dave set the girls at the table to eat when he looked at me and asked, "Where's Alexa?" I thought he was joking. Unfortunately, he was not. We had left her strapped in her carseat in the driveway. Now, before you call CPS, she was only there for a couple minutes, tops. But still, it's a sad commentary on the life of the youngest child.
On the bright side, when she goes through her teenage rebellion, we will be too weary and jaded by the older two to give her much of a fight. Go ahead, Alexa, get that tattoo.
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