Obsessed with the idea of people just adding 1 + 1 and getting 3 when it comes to Dick as a child, hanging out with Clark and Bruce. Because let's be honest, Dick is a carbon copy of Bruce and Clark.
Neighbour: That little slugger you got there is really something.
Pa Kent: Yeah, he's a cutie.
Neighbour: Takes after your boy, I was just telling the wife that the kid is literally the spitting image of Clark at that age.
Pa Kent: Well actually -
Clark: *bending down to high five Dick for hitting a home run*
Pa Kent, squinting: You don't say.
Barry: I don't know, it has to be some sort of Kryptonian magic biology or some weird tech but Robin is clearly-
Oliver: Oh, come on, Allen, that's not-
Clark, walking into the room sith Dick sat on his shoulders: You just worry too much, Bruce.
Bruce: I just don't consider Funions as a health snack for a growing boy.
Clark: Nag, nag, nag, am I right, Dick?
Dick: *giggling*
Olivier: Yeah... I get what you mean, Kent totally put that bun in that oven.
Alfred, on the phone: The little fella has chicken pox but there's no need to worry Mrs Kent. He should be right as rain in a few days.
Ma Kent: It's so odd, Clark was never sick as a child.
Alfred: Not to dismiss you, Mrs Kent but what does Master Kent's medical history have to do with Master Dick?
Ma Kent: Well, he's his son for a start.
Alfred:
Ma Kent:
Alfred: oh my god I thought it was just me.
Ma Kent: I'm sure Clark and Bruce will admit it soon, they're just taking their time. But it's obvious.
Alfred: Of course, Dick is the literal image of Master Bruce at that age.
Ma Kent: Are you kidding? He's the spit of my Clark. Now, focus, Alfred, does our grandson have a fever?









