While I was cooking (I use that term loosely) dinner tonight, Andrew and Thomas were riding a scooter and small bike around, and around, and around and around the kitchen, dining room and living room. As is typical in their relationship, Andrew was thinking he was in charge and Thomas was proceeding to quietly play the game his way, letting Andrew think he was following.
The game involved stopping frequently for gas in the hallway and doing a lot of honking as they drove through the dining room. I all of a sudden heard Andrew escalating his commands and it was clear that Thomas was on his own agenda.
A: "Thomas. WHAT are you DOING?"
T: "I just playing the game."
A: "Why are you putting your scooter THERE?"
T: "I parking it."
A: "But, it's backwards, THOMAS."
T: "No, it's not. It's just right."
A: "No, you're doing it WRONG."
T: "No, I doing it right. I backing it in. I backing my car in to the spot."
A: "How do you know about backing into a spot."
T: "Daddy does it."
A: "No, he doesn't."
T: "He should, and you should too."
Andrew drove away in disgust at his brother's original thinking.
During dinner Andrew requested more sugar for his strawberries. Thomas piped up that he would like some more sugar also and, "no strawberries, please."
At the grocery store this afternoon we ran into a former co-worker and friend. She stopped to chat in the parking lot and said to Andrew, "You're getting so big that I wouldn't have recognized you."
Without missing a beat he said, "You know, I really am."
After dinner Andrew resumed speeding around the loop on the scooter and Thomas protested that it was his turn. I told Andrew that in four minutes it would be Thomas' turn, and asked him if he understood me clearly. He said he did as he zipped through the kitchen.
Thomas then began yelling, "You have THREE minutes, Andrew. Do you hear me, kid? THREE minutes."
I reminded Thomas that I had actually said four minutes and he looked blankly at me and then said, "Right, three minutes."
I love that committment to a cause.
After tucking Thomas into bed I walked into Andrew's room to find him in bed, covers pulled up to his chin, hands behind his head, elbows spread out to the sides, staring at the ceiling. I asked him what he was thinking about and he said, "I'm just surveying my surroundings."
I said, "Oh, good words." I expected him to say he had learned them from me.
"Thanks," he said. "I learned them from a Scooby Do book at school."