That's How They Get You

Here's the thing about little kids. They do things like cut up pieces of paper into little tiny pieces and leave the bits all over the floor, or wake up crying at 4:48am, or insist after one bite that they don't really want the chocolate doughnut that they begged for but instead want the strawberry one their brother has, or or scream bloody murder about having to turn off the Xbox.

But then they have exchanges like this one in the car the other day:

Younger Child: Dad, you're a genius.
Elder Child: Genius means very, very, very, very smart, like 100% smart. [looks at his brother] Do you think I'm smart?
Younger Child: Yes.
Elder Child: Am I 100% smart?
Younger Child: Yes.
Elder Child: Am I a genius?
Younger Child: Yes.

Or this on at the dinner table tonight:

Elder Child: [makes thumb-and-index-finger gun and points at brother, then makes gun sound] I shot you in the face.
Younger Child: [closes eyes tightly] I'm blind. I can't see anything.
Both Children: [laugh hysterically]

And you have to laugh with them and be so totally in love with them that you actually feel pain in your chest when you gaze at them sleeping.

And that's how they get you.