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On Sharing

Will The Small Child Nephew curled himself into a pile on a chair when I left him.  "Come give Aunt Beth a hug," I commanded after flinging my bags in the car, for what use are small children if they are not made to do one's bidding.

"I'm kind of tired," he said.

I crouched down next to him.  "I'm going away for a little while, and I'd rather leave with a hug."

"But I don't want you to go."  This, I suspect, had less to do with firm sentiment in the direction of his aunt than the fact that he receives unlimited Wii time when she is in charge.

"Will, Uncle Josh is sad without me.  There's no one at our house to make him terrible dinners."

"But I want you to come back."  I had also failed to make him cookies.

 "I promise I will come back." 

This was all supervised by his elder brother, Jim The Nephew, who was seething on the couch after having been informed that the Wii would stay off until after he finished his homework.  "Will," he said.  "You have to share."

This moment of moral authority was later followed, I was told, by Jim's newly acquired information about Lent.  After Will returned from a Cincinnati Zoo class (he recovered quickly enough once he heard that my presence would be replaced by fries for lunch), he shared the intelligence that tigers eat meat.

"Not on Friday," my godson amended.

"That's only Catholic tigers," Julie The NephewsMama said, and Jim added that he had made the executive decision to give up Will until Easter (Again:  My godson.) 

Tuition well spent.

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