Playmates

The boys get along pretty well most of the time. I think they really do like each other, even though they would have to anyway. Owen's first request most mornings is to go wake James up, and James is always excited to see him. But you wouldn't necessarily think that this thing would be working as well as it appears to be so far.

For one thing, James is incredibly possessive. When he gets it into his head that something is "his," he has to know where it is all times. This goes especially for George, Steven, and all of his cars. While we're at Grandma's this also goes for the stack of books that he likes ("These are for me, Owen"), the red motorcycle that is a friend of Lightning's, the red tractor that is a friend of Mater's, the red ball that Owen had first, etc...

Owen, on the other hand, is a shameless thief and pot-stirrer. He usually is only interested in James' toys for the sake of provoking a reaction. If he can get James to break out of whatever game he's playing and chase after him screaming for justice...well, he thinks this is the most fun you can have. On the rare occasion when Owen actually is engrossed in a toy or a book on his own and James should happen to take it away from him, we can usually hear the meltdown from the other side of the block.

The best fun they have is doing stuff that makes no sense to the adult world, but is apparently for them engrossing and entertaining, such as plucking grass and putting out on the sidewalk as food for ants, or pulling out handfuls from the bushes, dropping them into cups, and then turning the cups over the edge of the porch.

When I went upstairs this afternoon to call them for lunch I found them sitting together in Owen's room, and James was reading a Look-and-Find book to Owen. He was sitting, and Owen was lying on the floor, chin in his elbows. They didn't hear me coming up the stairs--it's nice when the stairs don't squeak--and I just watched them reading together for about 10 minutes.

It's good when they play together nicely.