At first glance, Jada and Aaron can pass for the same age; and, because they sort of resemble one another, more than once they've been mistaken for twins. Jada's relatively small for her age and Aaron's relatively big for his age, so a two-year age difference shrinks to far less when making physical comparisons.
Ah, but emotional ages. Jada's the older sibling, and acts the part. She's a girl, so is biologically more advanced at this stage. And, building on those two things, she is ever seeking to grow up faster: asking us where she's going to go to school after Penn Alexander (that's nine years from now!), rolling her Dora suitcase in the airport like a seasoned traveler, casually mentioning to us that she's going to marry her friend J.D. and they're going to have three kids, and in every other imaginable way carrying on like a pre-teen, or a teen, or even a young lady.
Aaron, on the other hand, is three and going backwards. He has made zero strides in potty training and reveals hardly an interest in proceeding. His behavior in the morning has degenerated into infant mode, right down to the sound of his crying. The poor guy just wants to be loved, and growing up seems to get him further from that, so why not revert in age and seek for TLC as a carefree toddler?
Strangely, the two play well together, finding ways to entertain themselves like only siblings can. It's weird to me how fungible age is, how time and physicality and maturity can warp so greatly within the same pair of kids.
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