“Read to me?” he asked, patting the couch.
“Sure!” I plunked down and took the book from his lap.
“No!” He ripped the book from my hands. “I read it!”
By this he meant he wanted to hold the book and turn the pages himself while I read aloud. Good for him, taking steps toward independent reading.
Still, that didn’t justify the ferocity of his retrieval, so I shot him a look: brow raised, chin lowered, glaring over the rim of my glasses – a look that said, “Well!”
… and there he was, shooting a look right back: brow raised, chin lowered, glaring out of the tops of his eye sockets – a look that said, “That’ll show you!”
My wife, witness to this expressional face-off, burst out laughing. So did I. And so did he.
That particular expression is a regular in my repertoire, but I never knew what it looked like from the outside until my son aimed it right back at me.