These feet belong to my youngest.
He took the picture on my phone, right before he punched his brother.
He wasn't mad. It was just game on.
Punch Buggy- that is.
Normally I discourage my boys from punching each other but there is a twisted excitement that makes it okay when accompanied with the required punch buggy announcement.
And, no thanks to Teri, my baby is obsessed with punch buggy. He can spot them a mile away and has socked his brother before Elijah knows what has hit him.
It's Tuesday. Date night.
And what did we do. We threw punches. Yep.
Rex and I found ourselves caught up in the game.
I called the red punch buggy- he didn't call the silver one but punched anyway. Cheater, cheater.
It's pretty good for release of aggression- just be sure you actually see the beetle before throwing the punch.
Happy Tuesday y'all!