Give him about 9 years

I take the train to and from work. Mommy, Boy and Girl pick me up at the station. I walk to the car from the train. Boy asks what's in my hand. Why, that's a magazine, Boy. Here, look at it. Thanks, Daddy. I get a whole bunch of magazine subscriptions. I'm in advertising. I love looking at magazines. Especially with the amount of time spent on trains and planes. This one happens to be ESPN the Magazine. He's flipping through it. He gets excited when he sees baseball. "Big Papi!" Then I hear tearing. "Are you tearing the magazine, Boy?" "No," he says. He clearly is. He is tearing out an ad he wants me to see. Magazines are pretty disposable, so I really don't care that he is ripping it. I do not appreciate the lying, but now is not the time. He hands it up to me. I show it to Mommy at a stop light. It's an ad for Old Spice. Look, here it is. I start laughing. That's my Boy. Mommy is annoyed. Boy yells up from the back seat, "Look at the fish Daddy. Look at the fish."