Nicole pointed out to me the other day that with Gamble, everything is a competition.
"How much do you love me?" he'll ask, but then if you don't respond with a number, he'll ask you to. And then if you give him one, he'll respond with, "Well, I love you seventy quajillion, pabillion, million, thousand terjillion!" And then if you say, "I love you that... plus one!" thinking you've gotten the best of him, he'll say, "Oh yeah? I love you that plus a hundred bajillion fazillion million million million!"
He always has to point out who makes the best Mac 'n' Cheese, the best waffles, and the best pancakes. He's very concerned about who's winning, and when, and how often, and by how much.
And he hates to lose.
Like the other day, he asked Nic, "Mommie, what's your fourth favorite color?" She wasn't immediately sure what he was getting at, but she calls them his rants, and knew he was ramping up a competition of sorts. She avoided the conversation altogether, but as he gets older, that's only going to get harder.