Anyone who questions if there is such a thing as karma, or if God has a sense of humor, need only spend five minutes with Niko and me together. Here is another human being with whom I don't share any genetic history, no DNA, no inherited traits, who's personality so mirrors my own that it's down right scary.
Sure, some of it can be attributed to nurturing, mimicking what he's seen from me - like his inability to utter the simplest statement without waving his hands around wildly. What? We're expressive guys.
No, this isn't learned behavior, this is something deeper. We're both stubborn. We both simply know we're right. And we both refuse to give an inch when we disagree.
Last night a disagreement about eating carrots with dinner escalated into a war of wills. It was epic - worthy of a mythological battle of old. But we're not Titans. We're a dad and son. A dad and son too much like each other sometimes.
And frankly, sometimes I don't know what to do. Perhaps to make peace with Niko, I need to make peace with myself first.
So who one the war of wills?
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