41, 42, 43 . . .

Recently the boys set up a "gym" in the living room with various "exercise equipment" made up of pillows, chairs--whatever could be moved into the middle of the living room. Drew, 6, demonstrated the sofa cushion that was like a floor mat for doing sit ups. He did a pretty quick 40 as I held his feet for him, and he challenged me to match his number. (Well, you may be surprised to learn that I don't do sit ups that often.) Drew held my feet, and I s-t-r-u-g-g-l-e-d to match his 40. Actually, I got a second wind somewhere around 30, but I was quite happy to stop at 40. Then I tried to encourge Jacob, 4, to give it a try. I held his feet and he got off to a slow start. But like his old man he began to pick up steam as he went. "Alright, Jacob! You're gonna make it!" I was saying. "You can do it!" Drew was beginning to have a concerned expression. Was his little brother going to match him? As I counted off Jacob's final few sit ups, "37, 38, 39 . . ." I heard Drew pick up right where he'd left off 5 minutes ago, "41!, 42!, 43!. . ."