"I think we have three trucks outside right now to play with. Maybe four."
"Sixteen!"
"No, Charlie. Three."
"Twelve!"
"NO, CHARLIE. Now you're just lying!"
"No, I'm not. You are."
"You are."
"You are."
"YOU ARE."
"YOU ARE."
"YOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOU . . ."
"YOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOU . . ."
Then I jump in: "That's enough. Stop arguing."
"I wasn't arguing. I never argue."
"Yes, you are, Charlie."
"You are."
"You are."
"YOU ARE."
Repeat ad nauseam.
Friends to the end. Usually.
Your time will come, Jack. Just as soon as you're old enough to contradict your brothers.
It will be fun to see whose side Jack eventually takes! Mary in MN
ReplyDeleteIs that Charlie actually smiling? Granted, a silly smile, but definitely not a frown. Ah, must be the verbal sparring. Jack always looks so happy and laid back in your photos; I'm going to miss that detached contentment when he's part of the pack.
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