Dinner table conversation. 

We’re all pretty tired and the cubs are both showing signs of fatigue; short tempers, edge of tears, you know the routine.

The youngest takes delight in leaning from his high chair and pointing at the gap in the eldest’s front teeth. Repeatedly stating, in his speak, that she has teeth missing.

She leans towards him, takes a deep breath and blows vigorously into his face.

For my son, this is kryptonite. 

He recoils and bursts into floods of tears, repeatedly saying no.

I tell her to stop, reminding her that at some point the tables will turn. He will be bigger and stronger than she can imagine.

Her response made me chuckle..

Does that mean that until then I can do him harm?

No my darling; no it does not.