“Bring him to the toilet, Joe,” Carson shouted gleefully when a little boy, probably somewhere around three or four years old, raised one arm at Jonas while pointing at his stomach with the other hand. “He probably needs to go potty.”
Carson laughed at his own joke. He thought it was hilarious. Jonas obviously didn’t quite agree with him. He chuckled when Jonas turned toward him and glared. He chortled even louder when Jonas lifted his right hand and almost gave him the middle finger. However, Jonas quickly put his hand down and simply settled for rolling his eyes in response. Then Carson had a horrible feeling when Jonas suddenly smirked at him.
“Oh, Carson. You’re probably right. Why don’t you accompany little Jake here to the toilet?”
Carson gaped at Jonas. “But I don’t know how to deal with—”