Dana Maria Woodman

by Kawaii On'nanoko

How do you do? My name is Dana Maria Woodman, but everyone calls me Dana. I am ten years old and have long, dark brown hair that's always braided, brown eyes, and baby blue glasses. I wear a heart on my shoulder, meaning I care greatly for everyone around me. This is my story of how my dearest friends got the family they've always hoped for. Dedicated to the awesome guest Lilly!

1. Bloody Brilliant!

Dana POV

Mr. Brown came into the nursery, worried and scared. We were eating the chicken that Evangeline made for us. This is one of the few times I don't follow my motto " I don't do what other people tell me to do."

How do you do? My name is Dana Maria Woodman and I currently live with the Browns to avoid conflict between my ruthless parents who are divorced. I am ten just like the eldest Brown, Simon, (A/N I made a guess) have long dark brown hair that I always put in a braid, framed, baby blue glasses, and brown eyes. I was helping the Browns get rid of nannies that are the complete opposite of their mother, Annabeth Brown Nee Davies. Anyway, onward with the story.

Eric was a bloody genius! It's simple yet so effective. My scientific plan was elaborate yet it would've had little chance of succeeding.

"Where's Aggy?" Mr. Brown inquired.

We shot looks of mock guilt as we heard gargling, giggling, and tingling of bells inside the pot where the chicken was cooked. Mind the was cooked part. Mr Brown opened the pot quickly.

As he inspected his baby girl, he said,"Look at you. You're all cabbage-y. And you're all gravy." He turned to us. "As was doubtless your intention, Nanny Whetstone has resigned from her post. Now I shall go to the agency this afternoon, and I shall hire a new nanny. And you will not drive her away as you have with Nanny Whetstone and all of her predecessors."

Mr. Brown stormed away, wiping off the homemade gravy off his face.

Aggy cooed, "Papa."

I turned to Simon. "Did you see her reaction? Priceless! But she made me deaf in one ear." I rubbed right ear.

Simon smirked and went to our counting closet to mark the fattest nanny's meltdown. "Three days, eight hours, forty seven minutes. So that go rid of her... Twenty three hours and thirty minutes quicker than the last one." He marked it.

"And to think she's the top of London's strongest nannies list. Pathetic," I remarked.

"I think the turning point was definitely eating the baby. Well done, Eric."

"Don't you think it's more of a 'Bloody brilliant' thing, Si? I mean, the plan made that fatty nanny run at fifty miles an hour!" I butted in.