So I say something almost verging on mildly humorous to Top Management, something fully deserving of the patient and somehow still fond look it consequently receives.
"Ah..." I murmur, "I'm the best."
"You are!" the Brawn agrees from the other room.
"Hey hey! You hear that?" I ask my good lady wife. "Your youngest just said that I'm the best! He thinks I'm better'n you!"
There's a brief pause, and then the Brawn answers, "Mom's better than the best. I thought that was universally acknowledged."
I no longer worry about him as much as I used to.
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