Two little boys around the age of six are in their front yard, making a ruckus and totally digging it. One of them has a pointy, plastic sword and he's swinging the holy crap out of it. He's aiming for the other boy.
Out from the house storms a tiny girl around four years old, messy hair, dirty face, petite hands firmly on her little hips - her sundress hangs to mid-calf.
"Mommy says you aren't saaaapose to play with that, Billy," she chimes in.
"Yeah? Well she's not here," he responds.
"But you know she says that. She says sommmmmebody's gonnnnna get hit in the EYE or somethin' like that."
"Quit bossing me!" he says glancing at his little sister, sword still in full swing.
He quickly looks back at his little buddy but it's too late. WAKKKK!
Billy had accidentally knocked the other kid hard in the forehead with the sword. The kid yelps and runs off crying for his house next door, palm to his tear-streaked face.
The little girl turns to her big brother, now with one hand on her righteous hip.
"Don't even say ANYTHING!" Billy bellows and storms off.
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