Let me intrigue you with how my oldest talks:

Tonight the kids were rough housing. They were crawling around and pretending they were various animals, you know the routine. My oldest is absolutely obsessed with this Pac Man shirt he got from Target. It has three ghosts on it and it is way too big for him. In fact, it looks akin to a dress, but he doesn't care. He first saw this shirt in some run down Mc Donald's in some dumpy Virginia town on the way back from Chincoteague Island. Some punk kid was wearing it and my oldest was like, "That is the coolest shirt I have ever seen!" Mr. Wilhelm has instilled a love of Atari games in our son apparently. Anyway, we were at a Target and he saw it and of course, he begged me like nothing else for the stinking shirt. So, he wears this thing constantly. He reserves it in his drawer after wearing it the previous day and then pulls it out to wear. It gets stains on it, he wipes his mouth on it I am sure, and when it does get washed he puts that thing on as fast as he can. If any of you know me, that is how I was with my Wonder Woman shirt when I was a kid. I can relate to this. So as you may well imagine he is wearing the thing as I type.
Well, like I said, the kids were rough housing. My oldest comes up to me in great haste and concern and says between short breaths, "Mom! They were pulling my shirt! Look!" He turns around to show me how it is slightly pulled up around the collar. He continues to say, "Did they inflict damage!?"

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