A/N: Make sure you stop by and read the other stories because they are that awesome. Most of the topics I write about here are from personal experiences and I'll let you guys know which parts. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you all at the end.
Special Note: I'm all up for criticism in the reviews, I just ask that if you don't like it or disagree with something, I or any of the other authors write, that you be respectful about it. We do this for free and take time out of our RL and families in order to write such stories. We do this out of love.
Disclaimer: Stephenie owns all things Twilight. I own the bunny that attacked me to write this.
Beta: HollBeth
Simply Promised
Chapter 3
Renee POV
Four years Later...
"Isabella Marie, get off that boy this instant!"
I try not to screech, I really do.
But trying to detach my four year old tomboy from Emmie's sprawled body is no easy task.
That boy is huge like no other, but he is certainly not a fighter.
Not like his twin Eddie.
That Eddie boy is going to be the cause of his mother's gray hairs.
Emmie's cries bring me back to the now as I disentangle Bella's fists from his curls and her mouth from his neck.
I catch sight of an innocent looking Eddie staring on with interest.
But I know better.
That boy is the Devil.
"Bella! Did Eddie tell you to bite Emmie?"
She looks at me for a few seconds as if she's contemplating whether or not to answer me, but just as quickly as Eddie enters the room fully, she stuffs her mouth with her thumb.
And just like that, I know.
"Esme!"
She comes from outside with a few plates on her arms looking flustered.
She looks at Emmie sniffling on the floor, Bella sucking her thumb, and Eddie trying to look innocent.
This is so common that she immediately knows what happened.
"Oh my, Emmie," she coos. "Eddie and Bella, go to the corner."
The pair look at her expectantly, trying to look innocent as angels.
"Now," I demand, pointing to the two assigned corners that face away from the TV and yard.
I sit between their small, little bodies as their sniffles begin and I try to explain in ways they'll understand why they are being punished.
I wait for their cries to die and tears to dry before I finally send them off to color, since no more playground will serve as the rest of the punishment.
I watch as they hold hands and color the rest of the day with snacks and color pencils scattered all across the table.
They don't look sad... they look happy and proud.
It isn't until I see little Emmie playing by himself looking bored that I wonder if this was part of a plan.
A/N: Reviews are the same as a four year old Eddie... or maybe not, Just leave me some luv.