Whacker

Owen:  Mooooooooooooooooooooo-oooom!  Asher just hit me with his hard hat, HARD!!!
Me:  Asher, please come here.  Stand up right here.  No, on your feet.  That's right, now look in my eyes.
Asher:  Okay mommy.
Me:  Asher, did you hit Owen?
Asher:  Yeah, hit wif my hat.
Me:  Asher, we don't hit.  That is a no-no.  You may NOT hit Owen.
Asher:  Oh.  Sowwy Mommy!  Sowwy Owen!  [Runs over to Owen, gives hug, mumbles under breath]  It was assident. [We all know where he learned that phrase.]
Me:  No Asher, that was not an accident, it was on purpose.  Are you going to hit Owen again?  No?  OK, here's your hard hat.  If you hit him again, I will take it away and put it up high.
[Boys go running together back to basement, Owen turns back for a moment]
Owen:  Mom, I was showing him my striker and then he said he was going to show me his whacker, and then his whacker WAS his hard hat.  He will have to find a different whacker.

These two have an interesting communal imagination.  Another phenomenon is the 'jobber.'  They will carry out all manner of odd behaviors, sometimes including doing actual chores.  Once I found them each with their own bottle of Windex and a towel, giving the sliding doors a blue baptism.  "Boys, how did you get the Windex and why are you doing this?" cries their mom.  "Our jobbers told us to do it!" says Owen.  Apparently Owen's jobber is the remote control car, and Asher's jobber routinely changes.  I have heard of imaginary friends, but I have to say that imaginary chore-directors are even better!  Now, to get the jobbers to suggest useful chores :}

Uh-oh.  Finishing up this entry and Owen just ran in, "Mom, I just jumped down the stairs using the broom!"  Time for parental supervision we suppose?