My nephew slept over.
My dad and brother took him and Mason fishing. They were gone most of the day.
When my mom and I pulled into the driveway later, we were greeted by what I like to call: the jungle boys:
Our first sight was of the oldest (you can probably call him the "influence"), painted with mud.
Next came the nephew (we'll call him the "howler"), excitement apparent on his face, teeth ready to chew through human flesh.
And last came the littlest (let's just call him the "naked one"), displaying his mud-designs with honor, on his naked jungle canvas. He didn't like it too much when he was made to put on a pull-up.
From then on out, it was nothing but displays of ferocity, and manhood.