The boy is mine. Mine, mine. Yes, he's mine. Mine, mine.
As both of the battling ladies are only children much induldged by their fawning parents, neither was used to losing. It was tense in there. Coming out at Thanksgiving dinner tense. Fart in a car tense. Left at the altar tense. Yeah, that tense.
Oh, no you DI-INT!
At first it seemed as if NJ would prevail. Olivia was not pleased with her teething toy consolation prize. See the fight in her eyes? I hadn't seen that level of baby intensity since her staunch "NO!" stance against breastfeeding. She looked at NJ with a rage heretofore reserved for my boobs. And we all know who won that fight, right? Costco brand formula, that's who.
No retreat! No surrender!
But then Livy rallied with a quick grab for Tevin's ear. If she can't have the whole man, she's at least taking a souvenir. I didn't show her all those 'Nam movies for the moral lessons, people.
Peace, babies. Peace
After some wise adult intervention, the standoff came to a peaceful conclusion. Livy and NJ remain fast friends today, and Tev? Well, Tev went home with a purty little lady he likes to call "Mom." He's classy like that. He always goes home with the one who brung him.