My brother, Howie and I, use to always see who could get in the last word. My son inherited that from one or both of us.
Todd and I alternate taking Nathan to school in the mornings. It was Todd's turn to take Nathan and I kissed them goodbye and quickly went to my bathroom in the back of the house because I had to go. I had just sat down and here Nathan comes busting in the room.
"Mom, I want you to take me to school this morning," he said.
"No, I will come and pick you up this afternoon. Now go." I wanted to "go" myself, in peace, and without an audience if you know what I mean.
As he reluctantly left, I hollered, "I love you!"
He hollered back, "I double love you!"
"I triple love you," I yelled.
And before he slammed the bedroom door letting me know that he was getting the last word in, he hollered, "I fourple love you."
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