The guests were starting to leave the party. My aunt stood at the door, hand on the knob, ready to pounce out, waiting for her husband to finish talking to my mom. We were all gathered in the foyer. Then two pirates came twisting through the crowd. The bigger, the eldest by three months, held the wrist of the smaller one, firmly.
Brock: Grandma, can you please move? We have to go outside.
My aunt: You have to wait for your mommy, sweetie.
Brock: I’m taking Evan home with me. He’s coming to my sleep over.
My aunt: (laughing) You’ll have to ask your parents.
Brock turned around and maneuvered around all the adults, towing Evan behind him.
Brock: Mommy! Can Evan come to my sleepover?
T: Not tonight, Brocky.
Brock: Ok. Daddy, can Evan come to my sleepover?
C: (laughing) What did your mom just say? Not tonight.
By this time, the door was open. People began to file out.
Brock: Come on, Evan. You can come to my house for a sleep over.
Evan: No, I want to go to my house.
Brock: But, Evan. There are LOTS of toys at my house.
Evan: I want to go to my house.
Brock: Don’t you want to play with all my toys?
Evan: I’ve got lots of toys at my house.
Brock was now visibly upset, and Evan shook off Brock’s hand.
Me: It’s ok, Brock. We’ll do it another time.
Of course, Evan did try to sneak away in their van.