The boys were fighting in the car, arguing over what movie they would watch when the babysitter comes. The Lad wanted to watch "that dine-o-sore movie, the funniest dine-o-sores ever," and The Boy wanted to watch "Rudy," because, you know, he's too big for kid movies. Back and forth, back and forth they argued, neither budging from their stance. Finally, The Lad just screeched, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The Boy growled in frustration and hit The Lad's car seat.
"We do not hit."
"Well, I didn't hit him. I hit his carseat."
"You threatened him and that's not kind. Enough. ... If you boys can't agree, Momma and Daddy will just pick the movie."
"Yeah. I wanna watch the funniest dine-o-sore movie ever," The Lad piped up, starting the argument anew. I let them go on, their circular logic making me giggle, until The Lad screeched again.
"OK, OK. Enough. We don't need to argue."
"Well," The Boy said, "he does NOT like to listen to me, so that's why I was trying to CONFUSE him."
Somewhere in Ohio, my mother is cackling right now. For the record, I have no idea where The Boy gets it. None.