While walking in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens on a beautiful Friday, Levi discovers one of millions of sticks present within a 30 ft radius. He grabs for multiple sticks to accompany the one in his hand, but given his inclination to sprint everywhere, we decide against a two stick "attack." We continue our peaceful journey, Levi twirling his stick, when we hear a five year old's voice up a slight hill to our left:
Five year old ("5" from here on out): Look at that violent kid. (Meaning Levi, twirling his stick)
Levi looks in his general direction with a "what the f" look on his face.
5: Stop looking at me. You stop it!
L. Wallace (standing 20 ft away and pointing his stick at 5): YOU stop it!
5 (turning and walking away): I don't like you.
5 turns back around, coming towards Wallace II
5: Leave me alone.
What happened next is an event that even Hemingway could not effectively explain through the written word. I ain't no Hemingway, but here it goes...
At the last utterance of a bullying sound from 5, Levi brought his stick to attention and started to charge while exclaiming, "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." If 5 had been the one to charge, surely Wallace would have knelt, his stick held flat, shouting, "Hold......Hold" But, he decided for the offensive.
After 2 steps and about 1.5 ft of movement (still ~18.5 ft from 5), 5 turned and ran 3 ft until his head was safely behind his map-reading father's knees. Wallace stopped as Tash began to grab him. He had been successful; a smile crossed his face. We quickly scooped up Wallace and continued our stroll as we overheard 5's map-reading mother unapprovingly say, "What are you doing? Picking fights with two year olds?"
Tash, Wallace, and I chuckled...actually, if you put down the map, you would see he's only 21 months. Your son just picked the wrong 21 month year old to mess with.
