Games Boys Play

My wife is with Stephen at the doctor (he's been coughing a lot the past few days, so she took him in order to hear "It's just a cold," from a certified professional; ah, modern medicine). This means Jonah went with me to the dentist this morning, where he got a little toy robot dog for being such a good boy.

So I'm at home with Jonah and his "bestest friend in the whole galaxy," Justin. They, two peas in an extremely evil pod, are watching a heavily edited version of Star Wars Episode III (what George could not do, Mark has done. All hail Mark!). Eating my own lunch, I heard bumping, etc., and went in to investigate.

They had lightsabers, swords, Power Ranger costumes, and the dog and were totally ignoring the movie. Jonah saw me come in and said, "We're playing Darth Vader and General Grevous adopt a puppy."

I nodded and left the room.

Update
Due to various doctor-thingys (everyone's fine) I got to make lunch for Jonah. Would he like a hot dog, like his brother? "No. I hate hot dogs, unless they're burnt."

"You mean grilled?"

"Yah."

I asked what he would like. "A peanut-butter spoon, a . . ."

"A what?"

Timothy pipes in from the dining room, "It's a big spoonfull of peanut butter, left on the spoon."

"Thanks," I say.

Jonah continues, "A peanut butter spoon, and ham."

"Just ham? Not a sandwich."

"Just ham."

He's in a growth spurt, so I give him 4 or 5 slices. "How about chips? Do you want chips?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Doritos or Sun Chips?"

"Doritos."

Lunch of champions. Yes ladies, when you're not home, this is exactly how it happens.