Sometimes I feel bad for my six-year-old.
Not when he’s throwing a fit or refusing to eat dinner or talking back or throwing a fit or refusing to go to bed or being disrespectful or throwing a fit, but sometimes.
Dude’s had a bit of a rough run lately, what with the arrival of a little brother to not only steal some cuteness thunder but also to wreak havoc on the household without receiving so much as a cross word. Simply because he’s younger.
Toddlers get the benefit of the doubt for their behavior. Six-year-olds don’t.