The four-year-old informed me this morning that I was the assistant boss of the family. Dad is the boss, it seems.
Contrary feminist that I am, I had to quiz him. Why am I the assistant? Are you sure I'm not the boss? Maybe I'm the boss and dad's the assistant.
His reply, "You just are. You are the assistant."
Maybe, I suggested, we are co-bosses.
"Well," he explained, "I just can't have two bosses. So you are the assistant."
His sisters, it seems, are the princesses of the family (the six-year-old had to give him a little pronunciation guidance on this one as it kept coming out princes which was entirely NOT possible, she informed him).
The four-year-old? Well, he's the captain.
1 comment:
We all know that you are the boss. As for me, I am Master of Time, Space, and Dimension. Tell the Captain I said hello.
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