How do you parent a child who not only can make you laugh at the drop of a dime, but WHO KNOWS he can make you laugh at the drop of a dime? I'm sure my involuntary approach will backfire someday, but I just laugh.

For the past few weeks, I've taken the boys to the park a few nights a week to practice soccer. Usually we play 'monkey in the middle' or we'll setup two goals with cones and scrimmage against each other. Maxwell is the biggest, natural born clown I've ever met. Sara always asks me how it feels to have a twin just like me, but I think Max is way goofier.

Two nights ago as Xander rested on the sideline, Maxwell and I scrimmaged against Elijah. I played defense and Maxwell cherry-picked near our target goal. I would steal the ball from Elijah, pass it down to Maxwell, and he'd try to control the ball well enough to score a goal. Usually, Elijah ran back and stop Maxwell before he managed to score. However, once I passed to Maxwell and he stopped it directly in front of our goal; Max was ready to score. Elijah, conceding the goal, slowly walked towards Maxwell and chose not to challenge him. Apparently, Maxwell found this situation a perfect opportunity to taunt Elijah. With more attitude than any 5 year should have, Maxwell turned to Elijah, waved his taunting wave, and said "helloooooooo?" This taunt suddenly inspired Elijah to put up a fight and he quickly darted toward the ball. Maxwell's body literally jumped in fear. He quickly got serious, wound up, and scored the goal. Afterwards, he quickly dropped his serious act and the taunting resumed.

Last night as I rested on the sideline, Xander and Maxwell scrimmaged against Elijah. Maxwell again cherry-picked near their goal. Xander and Elijah played one-on-one and, when the opportunity presented itself, Xander would pass the ball to Maxwell who stood ready to score near the goal. Consistently, Elijah ran back in time and stopped Maxwell from scoring. Seemingly for Maxwell, the idea of stopping the ball, dribbling it towards the goal, and putting it through the cones -- all while his eight-year-old brother had different plans -- was a bad idea. After a few failed attempts at this strategy, Maxwell opted for another. The next time Xander passed the ball upfield, Maxwell had a plan. As the ball rolled toward the goal, Maxwell ran away from the ball and toward the goal cones. He picked up each goal cone, one with each hand, spread out his arms, and ran toward the ball. As he ran the goal through the ball, he exclaimed "goal!" Elijah and Xander literally fell to the ground with laughter -- we could not stop laughing. Later that evening as we ate dinner, we still couldn't stop laughing. Each of us tried and failed to coherently relay this story to Sara.