The Scientist has always been, well, slow. I don't mean he's less intelligent. I mean he drags his feet. He dawdles. He's easily overwhelmed, and he digs his heels in when he sense there's a lot of work ahead of him.
The Storyteller has always quietly zoomed ahead, getting everything cheerfully done while his older brother is turning red or purple at the thought of having to do six lessons today.
Today it's the other way around. Scientst is almost done. He has not complained once. Storyteller can barely drag his body back and forth from the bookcase because all this work is so hard.
I should start looking for medical cables in their closet, I think, because they clearly are doing late night brain surgery while I sleep.
Oh, wow, this has happened to me this week and it is so uncomfortable. It's as if they're trying on one another's skin. Ick.
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