Bobo why must you yell down the stairs every night at the top of your lungs. Asking the same question each night. Mommy do we have to whisper?
And while we are on this topic why do you ask me every night if that is your seat at the dinner table, as if you have not sat in that seat at every meal since you graduated from a highchair. Never mind that every other seat at the table is already occupied. Do you really not know the answer? Because if I do not answer you repeat the question over and over your voice growing in size and pitch until I look you in the eye and say not just yes or yep or thats right, but I must tell you that yes that is your seat Bobo.
You are something else miss Bobo.
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