My Age (Actual and Relative) Is My Greatest Asset

I'm amazed by what I can get away with simply because I'm the baby of the family and because I am still (by some definitions) a baby. For instance, if Meyer were to dump out, say, an entire bag of Cheetos® or Tostitos®, mommy and/or daddy would blow up and Meyer would spend four or five minutes in timeout before being forced to say that he's sorry. When I empty an entire bag of snack food on the kitchen floor, by contrast, mommy and/or daddy just shrug, sigh, and get to work cleaning up—giving me the opportunity to get into other things that I shouldn't get into. Likewise, if Meyer were to purposefully squeeze GoGurt out all over himself, he'd get yelled at, sent to timeout, and coerced into apologizing. Me, I just get cleaned up and dressed in more comfortable clothes.

As a fourteen-month-old child, I'm entitled to the occasional mess. But living with a three-year-old who really should know better also helps. Until mommy and daddy have another baby (and let's hope they don't), I'll be the baby of the family. And as long as I can demonstrate that I'm substantially younger and less mentally mature than Meyer, I'm gonna get away with all kinds of stuff.