Commercialism at its best

Jake just came running in to get Ike and me. "Come look at my commercial," he said.

He had three Transformers set up. He did a short "action" sequence with the three, then said, "Hot Shot and Six Shot Transformers, only available at Toys R Us. If you want 'em, get 'em."

Maybe he'll grow up to be that deep voice guy on commercials...

Also this morning, the three of us played Sorry (the board game). Now, I should explain that I come from a long line of very competitive women. The only times I ever heard Mom curse as a kid were when she was losing in Monopoly. My grandma starts setting up Chinese Checkers the minute she sees Mom pulling in the driveway. My aunt Dottie is just as competitive as those two. And as a kid, I distinctly remember that my Aunt Polly never just let me win in checkers.

We women like to win.

So, imagine my anguish when Jake announced, "Daddy and I are a team. Annie can be on your team."

But...Annie can't play! No fair!

Anyway, what he meant was this: He would in no way ever get one of Ike's pieces out. And Ike wouldn't do it to him. The one time I sent a piece of Jake's home, I was deemed cruel and evil mom. They high-fived again and again, despite me pointing out that, "You know, if Daddy wins, you don't, Jake." (I know, competition can be cruel.)

My one consolation? When Jake turned to Ike and said, "Daddy, you smell like farm animals."

There you go. Oh, and I won the game. :)