When you name a kid Rocco…

Anyone who has hung around Rocco for more than 15 seconds knows that he’s a bit of a loose cannon.  He is a strong-willed, opinionated, mischievous prankster.  He’s also hilarious and we love him to pieces, but holy crap I’m glad I’m not his brother.

Rocco loves getting Vincenzo all riled up.  He’s not a textbook bully—he won’t push or shove or bite his brother.  He’ll just casually sidle up to him, extend one tiny finger, and gently touch Vincenzo on the arm. 

Vincenzo goes ballistic.

I think it’s a game Rocco’s invented himself to see how little he can do to make Vincenzo hit the roof.  I find myself getting after V more than R because seriously.  Man up, Vincenzo.

Rocco is always quick with the apology.  “Howwy Dendo!  Howwy!  Howwy!”  In fact he’s so programmed to apologize that last night, when the boys were on opposite sides of the room and Vincenzo started spontaneously crying about something, Rocco started furiously apologizing.

So he’s got a guilt complex.  And a well-deserved guilt complex, at that.  Maybe that explains why, when Rocco looked up at the sky and saw a helicopter the other day, he said matter-of-factly, “They’re coming for me.”

Fortunately it wasn’t his time yet.  But just to be safe, I’m going to keep Rocco close the next time a helicopter flies by.

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