The other day, Grant (5) was going on a wild tear. In this state, he bears an uncanny resemblance to Taz, the tasmanian devil. He sweeps erratically around leaving a wake of destruction, often pulling others into his orbit and spewing them back out again.
I was in the kitchen pulling dinner together, and Eleanor (10) was on the couch, reading. Grant darted into the living room, spitting and growling, and Ele lowered her book and said, “you know, Grant, Mom brought you into this world, and she can take you right back out.” She raised her book back up and nonchalantly continued reading. Grant, meanwhile, was standing dead still, eyeing me with a big grin on his face.
I honestly don’t know who the boss is here, but I’m beginning to think it’s Eleanor.