He Never Misses a Beat

We were outside enjoying the early evening breezes, the singing birds, and the lovely filtered sunlight on the usually scorching deck, when our tranquility was rudely interrupted by the screams and shouts of little children.  Harry has taken to being Emma's boss lately, and being a strong willed little woman she just will not stand for it.  Our Emma is decidedly NOT a follower.  The yelling continued, and I realized that if I wanted to salvage any of  the peace we had been enjoying I'd better intervene and give a gentle lesson on who is and who is not the boss.
I got down to Harry's eye level, asked him to look at me, and began:
Harry, you have to stop telling Emma what to do.  You are not in charge of her.  You are not her mother, and you are not her father.  We are her parents and we will tell her what to do when she needs to do something.   Do you understand?
As I was speaking his big brown eyes left mine, and wandered down to my mouth, where I thought he was watching my lips move in an effort to further absorb the lesson at hand.  He looked back into my eyes to give his response:
I understand, Mom, but you have something in your teeth.