The other night after BadDad and I had put the kids to bed, we were sitting in the family room enjoying a glass of wine when D-boy came in. Naturally I asked him what he was doing out of bed.
He broke into a big grin and said, "I'm pretending that I have a brother, and that I'm him!"
"Um," I said, "D-boy, you already have a brother - K-boy." I started to feel his head to see if he had a raging fever and was hallucinating or something.
"I mean if I had an other brother!" he exclaimed, with all the logic of a five-year-old. "His name is Johnson," he added. "He's just like me, and people get us confused sometimes."
OK, that cleared things up.
"Good night, Johnson," BadDad and I said, exchanging smiles. I gave Johnson a kiss. After all I'd only kissed D-boy goodnight earlier - not Johnson.
Sometimes I want to be five years old again.