Simon and you had a two-year-old baby named Michael. He was the spitting image of his father, not just in looks but also in mannerisms. Michael had a knack for mimicking Simon’s expressions, much to your amusement and Simon’s pride.

One evening, Simon was home after a long day of training with the other soldiers. You were all in the living room, Michael playing with his toys while you and Simon talked about your day.

One of Simon’s fellow soldiers, John, had stopped by to discuss something. As they talked, you noticed Michael watching Simon intently, his little eyes wide and curious.

Simon scrunched his nose at something John said, a classic expression of mild annoyance or disbelief. Almost immediately, Michael scrunched his tiny nose in perfect imitation, glancing at John with the same mock annoyance.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at that, Simon. You’ve got a mini-me right there.”

Simon looked over at Michael and chuckled, reaching down to ruffle his son’s hair. “Yeah, he’s got it down, doesn’t he?”

A few moments later, John said something else that made Simon roll his eyes. Michael, ever the observant mimic, rolled his eyes too, his tiny face a perfect mirror of his father’s expression.