This afternoon, Boy2 and I were upstairs looking at his hand, trying to see if there was a splinter. We decided there was indeed a splinter. After locating the tweezers, I started to dig.
Meanwhile, Boy2 was downstairs playing his idea of music on a small guitar. When he noticed we had been gone for too long (as far as he was concerned), he called out for his brother. Boy1 replies, "I can't come down right now, you'll have to wait."
Boy2, being 2, replies, "But why?"
Boy1, having been (oh how wrong we were - but by the time we realized it, it was way too late) accustomed to ALWAYS having an explanation provided, provides one. "Because there's something mysterious in my hand and Mama is trying to dig it out." Well said.
Boy1 remains dissatisfied. "Mama, come downstairs."
"No, you come upstairs."
So he starts to walk upstairs. After a couple of steps he says, "Mama arms."
"I can't come get you - you come up by yourself."
With an exasperated sigh he says, "I can't Mama. I too heavy."
Yeah, I know what you mean.