Sometimes I am blown away by the brotherly love our sons show one another. And sometimes, I'm just bewildered by their ability to annoy one another. Tonight was no exception. When they got home from school they were as loving as could be, two peas in a pod. And then before bed, the monsters came out.
Quin (age 7): It's scary up there in the dark.
Tate (age 4): Don't worry, I'll protect you!
Me: The lights are on, just go up there - now.
They both walk up the stairs, and when they reach the top, Tate turns off the light, laughing. Quin literally flies back down the stairs and falls on the floor in a heap, wailing.
Tate: I won't do it again, come back!
Quin: No, I know your tricks!
Tate: But this time I won't, it's a pinky promise.
Quin: I'm on to you Tate... You are not nice.
Tate: Well, you don't know all my tricks, Quin. I have some that really hurt.
(At this point, I've been able to stop laughing and am a bit worried that my youngest may be possessed.)
3 minutes later... (Quin has his PJs on, and is standing next to me. Tate races down the stairs.)
Tate: Let's wrestle, Quin.
Quin: Tate, get off me! You need to get your pajamas on and settle down.
(They separate, Quin goes to brush his teeth. Tate goes into his room and starts to dance on top of his bed.)
Tate: (singing) Let's get this party started! Look at my fancy, prancy, dancey dance! I'll party up here the whole night.... (silence) Mom! My snail died! It smells like a stinky, dead snail in there. Oh, wait, that's just my garbage can. Stinky, dead snaaaaaaaillll!
Quin: Gross.
