This morning, Jeff and I looked up from our reading/writing to find our home had been overtaken by matadors. First James held his special blankie up like a shield while Jonathan pressed his fists to the sides of his forehead, extended his two pudgy index fingers, bowed his head forward, and charged his brother. Then they switched roles and did it again. Back and forth, back and forth, yelling all the while.
James: Turtle...! Turtle...! Wolay!!
Jonathan: Toto...! Toto...! Hooray!!
Dad: Actually, guys, I think what you mean to say is, "Toro...Toro...Ole!"
James and Jonathan: [blank stares]
James and Jonathan: [simultaneously, louder]
Turtle! Turtle! Wolay!!
Toto! Toto! Hooray!!