Excuse me? Oh, I see. You don’t want to share with him. It’s yours, you say.

Listen, Child. I’m going to break this down for you. Nothing is yours. Not that noisemaking doohickey or this blinking thingamajig. Your toys, your clothes, your crayons – even your toothbrush – they are all mine. I bought them. Or, at least, someone bought them for you.

Unless you’re sneaking out at night to moonlight at 7-Eleven, I’m pretty sure you bought nothing. Which means, you own nothing. And you will do as I say as long as you live under this roof - OMG I’m becoming my parents. Facepalm.

You will share. Don’t make me come over there and say it again.

*ADDENDUM: Do NOT share your toothbrush. I’m just trying to prove a point here. No, he doesn’t need to borrow it. Seriously.. Don’t… Oh, come on! Really?! You’re killing me, Smalls.