You are so your . . .

. . . father. Jackson tonight was running around in his underwear repeating, "Two girls. Jackson's house. Mommy open door." A dreamer, like his papa. 

. . . brother. Later while I was changing Maeve's diaper she was squirming about, so I said, "Maever, you're a little stinker," to which she replied with the biggest belly laugh. Already ornery at five months.