Bear, Age 3: Mama, can I have a piece of gum?
Me: Sure, HoneyBear.
Bear: Can I mix the gum? (His way of asking for two pieces)
Me: No, buddy. Sorry. Just one.
Bear: But one is for Michael Phelps, and one is for Zula Patrol, and one is for Regular Me (himself).
Me: Ahhh. But isn’t that three pieces?
Bear: Yup. But I’m sharin’.
That boy. What a gas.
