Boys Being Boys

Emil and Everett have both had shaves and haircuts recently, so it was my excuse to ask them to sit for a photograph.
Try to get two brothers to do that.

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“Stop staring at the heavens for a moment and listen to me, Saint Sunshine,” he said.

I was picking Emil up at Everett’s to chauffeur him back to his own place, and this was interrupting his process of getting ready to go.

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He didn’t say so, but we could tell Emil wanted it to be over with.

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Forever goofy.

Emil was on a mission, and this was getting on his nerves.

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Not a word. But those teeth? Gritted.

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“What shall I do next to irritate them both?”

Incorrigible.

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Emil finally ignored us and went ahead.

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There isn’t one good picture in the bunch!

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