“Oliver’s so ugly!” Nine year old Rosalie declared loudly, grinning when her four year old brother began whining in response.

“Well you were,” she defended herself, still grinning evilly, “Look, your nose wasn’t even straight, and your eyes were too big, and you had no hair,” she continued pointing out all the flaws on the baby in the portrait before her.

Oliver immediately ran across the room to his parents, demanding someone defend him from his ‘meaney’ big sister.

“Well, she’s not wrong little buddy,” Logan teased, Oliver had been a pretty ugly baby after all.

“Oh stop teasing, both of you, “ Marie admonished, despite the amused twinkle in her eyes, as she picked Oliver up to give him a cuddle. The little boy immediately turned to his sister and stuck his tongue out at her as he cuddled mommy.

“Mama’s boy,” Rosalie coughed in his direction, not that Oliver took that as any kind of insult; he knew Rosie was jealous he was getting to hug mommy.

“For the record,” Marie added, “Most baby’s are ugly when they’re first born.”

“Not me, I was a cute baby,” Rosalie declared, leafing back through her daddy’s pictures until she found one of her as a baby.

“I don’t know, you had those weird ears, and what little hair you had never sat flat, there was something wrong with your tongue too, you can’t see it in the picture but Aunty Jean had to fix it so you could drink milk,” Logan replied matter of factly, if Rosalie was going to dish out critiques she had better be able to take them too.

“And you were born late which made you extra fat when you were born, Oliver was born early so he was skinnier, that’s why his eyes looked too big,” Marie informed her.

“Heh, Rosie’s fat,” Oliver told his sister, sticking his tongue out at her again. Rosalie glared in response at her brother, opening her mouth to say something else, no doubt rude, just as Logan slid his hand over her mouth.

“Alright, that’s enough, both of you, it’s not nice when people are rude to you, is it?” Logan asked his daughter pointedly, who scowled in response before she nodded. “So remember, don’t say anything you wouldn’t want said back to you, got it?” he warned her, releasing his hold as she nodded.

“You still had bug eyes,” she muttered, at Oliver, as he ran past her a moment later to go back to play with his toys. Apparently he had impeccable aim, for a four year old, as one of his toy cars smacked his sister in the back of the head a split second later.

“OW! Mom he threw it at me!” Rosalie shrieked, as she leapt down from the table – daddy’s special drawings forgotten – and took off after her brother, who, with a holler of his own, took off running.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Marie grouchily asked her husband, as she noticed him trying to slip out the door, while she was deciding if her children needed to be physically separated.

“Brain call, mission, got to go,” Logan told her, wincing when a loud crash sounded from Oliver’s room, followed by an ear piercing scream of indignation. “Have fun,” Logan added, legging it from the room before his wife could toss something at him.

“Why did we do this to ourselves!?” Marie muttered, pausing with a smile when her eye was caught by the abandoned image left open on the table. Little Rosalie, absolutely besotted with her baby brother, she had wanted to hold him and cuddle him all the time, she had absolutely adored him.

Where the hell did it all go wrong, Marie wondered, as she listened to more banging and crashing from the bedroom.
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