All I have heard from Peyton this week was, "Mama, can Tucker spend the night?" over and over again. Well, Tucker spent the night Wednesday night. There is nothing funnier than the conversations between a five and six year old. After falling asleep last night watching Cars, I put them both in Peyton's bed and crawled into my bed with Presley. A few minutes later, here comes Peyton. "(sobbing) Mama, I don't want Tucker to spend the night anymore! I just want to spend the night with you!!" So I told him that he was the one who talked all week about Tucker spending the night, and he needs to be a big boy and go back to bed. Well, of course that wasn't the end of it. Here he comes back a few minutes later, crying harder than before that he can't fall asleep. Once again, I told him to go back to bed if he didn't want a spankin. I didn't hear back from him until I rolled over the next morning, and there he was, in my bed. Poor Tucker!
The next morning, after breakfast, the boys were in Peyton's room with the door shut. Well, usually that's never a good sign, so I opened the door, and there Peyton was in his sunglasses, polo shirt, and khaki pants. I said, "Peyton, what are you doing?" He said, very nonchalantly, "Actin rich." Because apparently, that's how he feels rich people dress:) Then a little while later, I overhear this conversation in the playroom: Peyton- "Tucker, did you know my great-great-great grandfather was in the war, and he had both of his legs cut off, and an arm?" Tucker- "Peyton, let's play war." In Peyton's defense, his great grandfather was in 'the war', and he was shot (in the leg) and he did have an appendage shot off (his finger), but hey, who am I to correct his story? His version sounds much more interesting:)
