I have two younger brothers. And I love talking to them.
As of March 2019, Crumb (not his real name) is 9 and Nugget (not his real name) is 6. They’re always chit-chatting – asking questions, formulating opinions and trying to figure out how the big wide world works (admittedly, I’m right there with them).
It’s fascinating to me, listening to how they see the world. Sometimes, they ask things and I find myself wondering, ‘where did that come from?!’ and other times, they just crack me up.
Here’s what’s been going on under our roof:
Around Christmas, the boys received letters from the elves in the North Pole.
Me: “Are you going to write back?”
Crumb: “No, they’ve probably got a lot of admin.”
Nugget: “Listen! The cat’s purring.”
Me: “Yes, he is. Isn’t he cute?”
Nugget: “No!” (a pause) “He’s hungry!”
Mom: “Did you make any new friends at school?”
Nugget: “Yes.”
Mom: “Great! What are their names?”
Nugget: “I don’t know. I’ll make different friends tomorrow.”
Me: “Let’s go to the beach.”
Crumb: “I hate the beach. There’s sand everywhere. And the sun.”

Nugget was playing badminton with our mom. I was watching from a distance when he looked over his shoulder and asked me: “Do you want to be my fan? You can even stand behind me.”
So I waved my hands around a little, like a one person Mexican wave and cheered: “Go, Nugget, go! You’ve got this!”
Nugget: “I know I’ve got it.”
Me: “Good shot!”
Nugget, hand on his hip and totally nonchalant: “I know.”
Me: “That was great!”
Nugget, nodding: “I know. I’m so good.”
Crumb: “Listen, you can’t always be the boss.”
Nugget: “You can’t either.”
Crumb: “Well, someone has to. And I’m older.”
Nugget told us about his day on the drive home from school: “I had to tell Santiago two times that he isn’t my best friend; he’s only my friend.”
Mom: “That’s not very nice. Poor Santiago.”
Nugget, shrugging: “What? It’s true.”
Crumb: “One day, when I’m big I’m going to buy the biggest house and then give all the homeless people a room, so they aren’t homeless anymore.”
The other day, Nugget asked for Oreos. Mom gave him four: “Two for you, two for your brother.”
Nugget, sighing: “Fine.”
10 minutes later, Crumb came into the kitchen: “Can I have some Oreos too?”
Mom: “Nugget! Didn’t you give any to your brother?”
Nugget, shrugging: “He didn’t ask.”
Mom: “Did you offer?”
Nugget: “No?”
Me: “How do you feel about capitalism?”
Crumb: “I’m okay with it.”
Me: “Do you know what capitalism is?”
Him: “No, but I don’t always understand you anyway.”
Me: “Don’t you think you should clean up this room?”
Crumb: “Don’t you think you should clean up yours?”
Me: “Fair point.”
Crumb: “I’ve been waiting to say that all week.”
Me, leaving the house: “Bye! I love you.”
Crumb: “Thanks.”
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