War of the Skippy's. . .

Skippy Jr. and I got into an argument last week. He was playing with a cup from our bathroom (something we normally let him play with), but it was time to go so I asked him for the cup. He wouldn't hand it over so I grabbed it and tried to take it. He grunted and babbled something. I pulled harder and started to raise my voice, "give it to me!" He started yelling back in his gibberish "wha do ba to mah wag me no!" (obvioisuly meaning "no, it's my cup, I found it, get your paws off me you damned Dirty daddy!"). So I picked him up and took it away.

I like being bigger.

With that story in mind you can understand why I'm worried about today. My wife has a snow day today, and when I left the house our darling son was already yelling at (in his jibberish language) her for cramping his style. I think it was because he wanted to bang on the computer and she told him "no." I half expect to come home to one of them packing their bags to run away from home and join the circus.