Like father, like son

Every once in a while, I encounter a blatant reminder that Isaac is most definitely, through-and-through, the son of his father. He may have my toes and my nose, but he thinks like his daddy.

This morning, I was in the kitchen pouring my Pepsi before leaving for work, and Rick came into the room in a huff. “I can’t believe how many checks I have to write each month now.” He began thumbing through the check register, counting [out loud] the checks he’d written in October, then comparing the amount to the number already written for November. “This is the first time EVER that I’ve had to use more than one register-book to record all the checks for one year,” he sighed ruefully. “Ridiculous.”

??

I just looked at him blankly, ‘cuz I got nothin’. He actually got up from his chair in the living room and walked back to the kitchen to tell me this.

Just then, Isaac came downstairs and announced, “Guess what, Dad? I figured out how to flush the toilet only one time instead of three every time I go to the bathroom!”