He and Justin got along fine after an initial confrontation. I had to instruct the teen to play rough if he wanted to survive the holiday with this eleven-year-old dynamo son of mine.
Justin went and found himself a quiet spot in the living room within minutes of their arrival here. I imagine he needed some solitude away from us noisier adults who sat gabbing around the kitchen table. Then David found him.
Here is somebody new, he must have thought.
At first he sat at the far end of the same couch, pitching a throw pillow up high into the air while sizing up the older boy resting at the other end. He wore a mischevious grin as he tossed and caught, and then he began taunting the poor child.
Well, Ali overheard that.
“David! That’s not nice.”
Justin sat there and grinned back at his second cousin, but he didn’t say anything.
Another toss into the air, and another assertion followed.
“You are UG-lee.”
“David! Stop saying that. Harry, tell David to stop saying that.”
So that’s how I got involved with my grand-nephew Justin's timely rescue.