“Mom,” Younger said, tossing his backpack into the back seat of the car then sliding into the passenger seat beside me. “I think I need to work on my arrogance.”
I eyed him warily. “Why is that?”
He grinned. “Because I already developed the opening scene of the movie they will make about me.”
I don’t think it is his arrogance that needs work.
Modesty, on the other hand . . .