Some things aren't meant to be shared

Overall, I'm very pleased with the way my boys interact. Oh, we have our fair share of fighting. And misbehaving. But, in general they do a great job of getting along--oh, and did I mention they do so all in the same bedroom and in 1100 square feet of house?

Sharing things is commonplace around here. Almost everything is community property. Each child has a "special shelf" upon which to put special items and mementos that are off limits to brothers. Other than that, everything else is game. Needless to say, "Please share that with your brother" is a refrain of my life song.

This morning at breakfast, #2 was animatedly recounting a dream he'd had the night before.

#2: So, like we went the hospital to visit Dad, 'cause he didn't have any works that day.

#3: (interjecting) Dad did have works.

#2: No, he didn't. . .And so, then, we decided to go to McDonald's to get hamburgers for lunch.

#3: (interrupting) I like hamburgers.

#2: (looking a bit perturbed at the dream intruder) When we got our burgers, we went back to the hospital to bring Daddy one and all of a sudden they had McDonald's playground at the hospital. . .

#3: (correcting his brother) No, they don't.

#2: Yes they do, it's my dream.

#3: No.

#2: Yes, it is. (continuing) So, then there was a palace at the McDonald's playground with bugs on it. And when we put down our hamburgers, a big bug came and picked it up and flew away. . .

3: Not mine.

#2: Yes yours.

#3: Nope.

#2: YES! It's MY dream!

#3: Mom, he's not sharing his dream with me!

Sheesh.