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.
Mommy taught Levi how to catch snowflakes on his tongue:
