As daddy was busy cleaning the fridge and I was racking my brain on a condolence e-mail for a dead dog, our three-year-old was screaming his head off because his big brother just took the cartridge out of his Leapster game.
"Samu," I yelled, "just deal with it. He's your brother - work it out!"
It's funny how he's the second child yet, he struts around as if his older brother is putting him out. He comprehends a whole lot more and in a sense he is smarter but Big Bro has a heart of gold. The little guy's insensitivity sometimes goes too far and I wonder if they'll ever stop fighting.
Then...I get pictures like this that was taken by their Auntie and it makes me realize no matter what I do to arbitrate, they are in their own world of being brothers.
Seriously. He asks me who's fresher: him or Daddy. To which I tell him, he's got a couple of years to go but he's not far behind. Can't say that's a good thing. As for the toxicity levels of their farts - it really is a toss up. I gotta stop making collards greens.