"Hey," I hopped in to defend Mr. Dog, "Don't hit your dad."
"I wasn't hitting him."
"Really?" Mr. Dog asks, rubbing his assaulted arm. "So what was that?"
Then Little Dog gets in on the act. "Bam, bam, pow, kapow, bam!" as he peppers his dad arm with his own flurry of fist falls.
"Don't punch your dad!" I say, knowing that whatever the big brother does, the little brother is likely to imitate.
"I wasn't punching!" he insists.
"No? So what was that then?"