Brandt adores London. He has to do everything his brother does. If London gets a treat, Brandt wants one. If London has reading practice, Brandt does too. If London bites his tongue when eating, Brandt suddenly has an owie in his mouth.
So when London accused Brandt of calling him a name, not to be left out, Brandt was ready with his own accusation: “Now you called me a name, mama!”
“I did not call you a name, Brandt.”
“Yes, you did! You called me Omar!”
And I admit, I laughed. Silly boys.