Who's Got Command Of This Op?

We were in the middle of a spirited game of go-gos. I was packing this little number, per Turtle's request:



He was packing a random piece of wood we used to put in his window to prevent someone from opening it from the outside. We both huddled in the shadow of an interior doorway we never use.

"Shoot the balls, Mommy! Now! Now! Now! NOW!" he screamed at me.

I turned to look at him and levelled a furry eyeball in his direction.

He rolled his eyes back at me and said "Please" in a very "If I have to stop and say 'please' every time I give you an order, you're going to get us both killed!" way.

I think he'll make an excellent general some day.