Today Lire spit at his brother's food from across the table as they ate their afternoon snack. Nice.
When asked if he in fact did as Habtamu described (Mommy, Daddy! Lire did something really bad... he spit at my food!), we were greeted with a stony silence. Lire's cheeks were full of apple juice, his juice bottle tipped at an angle with which to imbibe more of the offending spit fuel.
He swallowed and said, "I go downstairs."
Daddy: That's a good idea. Please go to your room
Lire doesn't budge. I ask him if he'd like me to help him go downstairs. He nods. I go to hold his hand. Rejection. I pick up the little man and carefully carry his 40 lbs down the stairs and place him gently on his bed.
Lire: I no talk anymore (muttered)
Me: Ok (cheerfully)
Lire: HEY! (surprised and offended)
I went upstairs to help remove a tick from our beleaguered pup as Habtamu watched in disgusted excitement. I carried the tick down the stairs to flush it and heard "Mommy?"
Me: Yes Lire?
Lire: Mommy hup? (help)
I opened the door and saw our little man attempting to put on his pjs "awl by self," because it's "easier."
While this was going on H had gone to watch "Word World." Lire went upstairs expecting to find Habtam, but nobody was there but the birds out the deck window.
Lire: I say sorry Habtam! Where Habtam?
When I told little man where H was, and that he would have to wait a while to be able to watch tv with him, he became the Weeping Birdwatcher.
There's been a lot of activity at our feeder since the cool weather returned, and we saw a rose breasted grosbeak for the first time. There are two males hanging around our deck, and the Weeping Birdwatcher was glued to the window, albeit weeping.
Epilogue: The Weeping Birdwatcher eventually went to join his brother for tv time, an "I sorry Habtam" (H grunted in reply), and an amazing comeback as the Grinning Pesky Younger Brother Who Likes to Talk While Watching TV.