I realized last week that I’ve been having the same argument for the last twenty years. I have three younger sisters, and you’d think we were all here, reliving our Barbie-and-clean-up-time-induced blow outs. Seems like every other sentence out of my mouth could be a direct quote from our childhood.
Stop that.
Don’t touch that.
Stop, you’ll break it.
Don’t touch it.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Please don’t do that.
Ouch—you’re hurting me.
Stop—you’re stepping on me.
Please don’t mess with that.
Leave it alone.
Leave me alone!
I imagine that by the time Hayden’s old enough to not need these constant injunctions, he’ll be giving them (and receiving them) from his siblings.