Dishing it Out

On Friday, I picked H and another boy up from t-ball practice. C was in the car with me. The other boy asked C how old he was. C told him, 5. The other boy said that there was no way he was 5, because he can't understand how he talks. And that only little kids are hard to understand like that. Of course, he didn't mean anything by this, but I was still kind of cringing. I thought C might get frustrated or upset -- but no matter the situation, I wanted to see how he handled himself. I have a feeling this is not going to be the last time he gets told this once he hits Kindergarten next year. I don't think there's any need to worry. C looked at him, and said, "Well, you look like a chipmunk. Your front teeth are so big. Actually, you look like a beaver." Needless to say, they both started laughing at each other, and they proceeded to have a tickle fight.