Weapon X: “I don’t need you any more, Mama. Mail me to Nana.”

Me: “Okay. The post office opens on Monday, and I’ll mail you to Nana.”

X: *thinks* “I need you again, Mama. I don’t need D (brother). Mail D to Nana.”

And at bedtime…

Project Alpha: “I don’t need you, Mama, get out of my room.”