We've just had my godson and his older brother (one of Charlie's very bestest friends) over for a sleepover and right here, I have to tip my hat to ANYONE who has 3 boys. The sheer volume for one thing; and the vehemence. Anything and everything that could pose as a weapon was dragged into service against monsters and unsuspecting parental units. I mean, I love the Nerf guns but the frenzy to which the presence of one can raise a roomful of boys is, frankly, quite disturbing - particularly considering that these are really very little boys.
I've probably said this before but I've often felt remorse at the lack of a sibling in Charlie's life; however I do resolutely feel he has the best of everything - friends, attention, comfort, boundaries, outdoorsy play, indoorsly slugging about, you name it, he's spoiled for it. A bit too much, in fact.
The upshot of this is that when friends come over he tramps around like a little dictator ordering them about and generally pissing them off. This time however he was entirely outgunned by the tiniest, most angelic little tot you have ever seen: my godson, two-and-a-half with a whispering lisp and the bluest eyes on the planet, my god-son whom I have only ever seen smiling and giggling, my god-son, half-a-pint of coy, armed with a badminton raquet and leading the attack with the sort of ruthless abandon one might imagine chased Piggy off that cliff... at least until the tickle monster fought back.
Tonight, our little Mussolini is extremely humbled, not to mention wiped flat. He's eaten his dinner, said 'yes' to everything and done exactly as he was told.
On the one hand this makes me feel even more that a sibling would be a good influence on him; however the influence on us, if tonight is anything to go buy, would be to render us even more senseless than usual...