Friday, October 25, 1985. 4:35 p.m.
Mrs. Verity Holmes was getting ready for her Ladies' Club meeting. "Now, Sherly, Croftie, I want you to be good boys for Jennifer. She's a new babysitter for you. I don't want to hear you ate all of the sweets again, Mycroft. And Sherlock, I DO NOT want the house burned down or even nearly like last time. Understood?"
"Yes mother." They said in unison. Sherlock was laying on the couch, reading a book on the history of science. Mycroft was sitting in his favorite chair in front of the big picture window. It was his father's chair before he died. He looked up from his paper and said, "What happened to Sarah? I liked her. She made us cookies. Maybe, she left because SOMEONE tried to burn down the house." He looked over his paper at his younger brother.
"I didn't mean to. It was an experiment testing the effects of fire on play dough. How would I know that it's flammable? Besides, she was dull. She never even let me into my lab. I had to go outside to do my experiment. All we did was play stupid board games like Cluedo. I HATE Cluedo. And you only like her because she made you cookies."
Mycroft glared at Sherlock.
"Boys, please. Not now. Sherlock, I hope you don't act like that when Jennifer gets here," said their mother with a firm tone. Sherlock just merely rolled his eyes and turned back to his book. Just then, the doorbell rang. "Ah, that must be her. She really is a sweet girl." She opened the door to Jennifer, who smiled.
"Hello, Mrs. Holmes. I hope I'm not late." She walked through the door. "I brought some fun stuff for your boys to do." She held up her bag and shook it.
"You hear that boys?"
"Mmhm." They didn't look up from their readings.
"Well they sure sound enthusiastic." Jennifer said sarcastically.
"Oh, don't worry, they will become more sociable. My phone number is on the refrigerator, along with the number of the community center where my meeting will be. They have no food allergies, but don't let Mycroft eat too many sweets. He's trying to watch his weight." She pointed at Mycroft. "He is the one reading the newspaper. He's the eldest at sixteen. And Sherlock is the one on the sofa reading the book. He's nine. He's intelligent for his age. They both are. Wave hi boys." They gave a slight wave, not even looking up. Mrs. Holmes rolled her eyes. "Goodbye boys. Be good. Especially you, Sherlock." She grabbed her scarf from off of the rack.
"Goodbye, Mother. Have a nice time." Mycroft said, putting down his paper and walking over to her to give her a hug. "I'll try to keep Sherlock out of trouble."
"Thank you, Croftie." She hugged him back. "I should be back before supper. Have a good time with Jennifer, now." She waved and walked out the door.