Elmo.

“A, B, C, D, E, F, G,” a five year old Nick Jonas sang at the top of his lungs as he sat with his big brother, Joe, on the couch. Their feet were barely even touching the floor. A little girl at the far end of where they were sitting was grinning, hiding behind the book she was reading.

“H, I, J, K, ELMO, P,” Joe quickly followed through, a smug grin on his face.

But Nick glared to him, hitting his small feet against the couch angrily. “No! Joe, it’s L, M, N, O,P.”

“No,” the other boy argued. “I’m right.”

“You’re both wrong,” the girl rolled her eyes, going back to her book and ignoring the fight that was happening in front of her.

“Would you guys quiet down?” Kevin ran out of his room. “I’m trying to build my Lego Space Ship!”

“Kevin, tell Nick I’m right,” Joe piped up. His hand was closed into a fist, ready to punch his little brother if he didn’t agree.

“Nick, Joe’s right.”

“Ha.” Joe pumped his fist in the air.

But a cry broke out from Nick’s lips. Once their mother heard this, she charged to the living room where they were. She sent Joe a scary, menacing glare.

“Joseph.”

“Yes, Mommy?”

“Grounded. For a week.”

Joe looked baffled. “But I’m eight, you’re not supposed to ground me until I’m thirteen!”