So this morning while we were all laying in bed trying to get motivated to start our showers, teeth brushing and normal daily routines Texas announced that he was the king. I quickly chirped in that I would like to be the princess and Z of course decided that he would be the warbeast (insert eye roll here for boy things). I told Texas that he should be the king of something to which he replied that since he was planning to be a scientist it made sense that he was the king of science.

After a brief pause to contemplate Texas asked to be a guard instead. When I asked why he said “because guards get to fight in battles” – (insert a glare at Z for introducing G.I. Joe into our lives). I pointed out that being the king is WAY better (and more important) than being a guard because all the fights worth fighting happen with your brain and not your braun.

He begrudgingly gave up his fighting aspirations soon after more contemplation on the power of royalty versus support staff and as we left for the day he gently patted Z on the head and said “good warbeast – i’ll see you when we get home.”