Eleven to two

Living with a seven year old is a roller coaster.  It's like there are two people inside of him trying to get out.  When I turn the light on the in morning, and try to shake him out of bed, I never know if I am going to be dealing with an 11 year old or a two year old.

One morning earlier this week, the "11 year old" visited his brother and sister.  They were all up early playing, when T headed into the bedroom to get a box of dolls for them to play with.  He handed one to M and one to A.  And within seconds A was screaming that M had her dollie!  M of course responded by screaming back and clutching the doll so tightly, that he would have cut off its circulation had it had any.

"Hush," said the wise 11 year old, "I didn't get these dolls out to listen to a bunch of screaming kids.  Stop whining in my ears.  You should be happy that I brought them for you to play with."

Silence.

"I guess this one can sit in her stroller." said A. 

And then the three of them played happily with the dolls for the next hour.