At the doctor's office, the pediatrician asked about the large red mark on my two-year-old's back.
"Rug burn." I answer.
She returns my reply with an inquisitive look.
"From wrestling," I further explain. "We have four boys."
Now getting it, "Oh," she says, understanding, "Boys do play rougher than girls."
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Loading up the car, there was a lot of pushing and shoving going on.
Brian reminded Bryce, "Be nice to him, he's your brother."
"He's not my brother! He's my husband!" was the comeback.
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Davis, playing with his big brothers, was making quite a racket with his baby jibberish.
Bryce, looked at me excitedly and said, "Mom, he's learning Spanish!"
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In the playroom the boys grew frustrated with Davis crawling over and messing up their toys. "No, No!" Bryce told his baby brother as Davis neared his neat line of matchbox cars.
"He doesn't understand 'no'," Grant tried to explain to Bryce.
Holding up his hand in a stop position like a police officer, Bryce tried again with even stronger fervor, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
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