The Boss.

The Destroyer and I were having a bit of a discussion about things this morning when I had to stop the little dictator from trying to command his brother like some sort of power-laden General.

“Hey little man, that’s not right. You aren’t the boss around here.”
“Yes I am.”
“You’re the boss?”
“What makes you the boss?
“I’m smart.”
“Smarter than mommy?”
“Smarter than me?”
“Okay. Test time. What’s ten plus ten?”
“What color do you get if you mix red and blue?”
“I see. And who was the President of the United States during the First World War?”
“Uh huh. Well. Clearly, you are the brains of this operation.  If it pleases Your Majesty,  please don’t tell your big brother what to do.”
“Okay daddy.”

….and off he went, our little threenager.


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