The Decider
As I came down the stairs, I overheard this exchange in frustrated boy tones:
Hans: “Jaeger, answer me!”
Jaeger: “You are not the boss.”
Hans: “Yes. I am five! Answer me!”
Jaeger: “You are not the boss.”
Hans: “Yes, I am!”
So, I descend: “No, I am the boss. What is going on?”
Five minutes later, Jaeger thoughtfully pipes up, “Hey, mom.”
“Yes?”
“Are five-year-olds bosses?”
“No, only Mom and Dad are the bosses.”
“And big boys?”
“Nope, only Moms and Dads.”
And in another five minutes, the same argument occurs again, with changed vocabulary:
Jaeger: “Well, I am the decider!”
Hans: “No, Mom is the decider!”
Jaeger: “Mom! Can children be deciders?”
Mom: “Sometimes.”
Jaeger: “Mom says sometimes children CAN be deciders.”
Hans: “Well, I decide to stay right here and drink water.”
Jaeger: “Well, these are my birthday toys (his matchbox cars), and so I decide for them. I am going to play with them, because I am the decider.”
“Oh, I’m Skippyjon Jones with a mind of my own….”
