When you and your brothers choose to ditch patrol and have an impromptu picnic instead…
Red Robin: Uh, guys? We don’t have the ingredients for S’mores.
Red Hood: We do.
Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin: *stare at him*
Red Hood: What? I always have emergency S’more rations in my motorcycle.
He’s got a lighter in case you want an impromptu bonfire, too.
When you teach your sons how to be financially responsible and ask them to present an account of their expenses…
Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian *hand over haphazardly stacked pieces of paper*
Bruce: Hn.
Bruce: Most of these aren’t even receipts. This one says, “I bought a Robmobile, 2010″.
Tim: Is that a threat, Brat?
Damian: Why, yes! I thought that was obvious, Drake.
Training sessions at the Batcave be like…
Batman: *powers off the villain generator*
Batman: *watches as his sons get up from the various places they ended up in, dust off their bloody and singed suits, and groan in pain*
Batman: …
Batman: Well, this simulated disaster is a total disaster.
Alfred: *goes upstairs to grab some tea and medical supplies*
And it’s this familiarity with homemade disasters that makes the Robins experts on the field.
When your little brother asks you how to get “street cred”…
Jason [to Damian]: The next thing you’ll want to do is ditch the feline and get yourself a proper canine. Any dog under fifty pounds is a cat, and cats are pointless.
In which it’s a good thing Red Hood’s got a helmet to hide all the claw-shaped scratches on his face.
Red Robin: *crouching behind the giant coin in the Batcave*
Nightwing: *walks in*
Red Robin: *to his walkie-talkie* The Hug Machine is here. I repeat, the Hug Machine is here. Smiling on all cylinders.
The rest of the Batfamily: *temporarily stop brooding to find hiding places*
Dick tends to get in the way of angst and sadness.
At the Annual Justice League Talent Competition…
Robin: *watches his brothers performing onstage*
Robin: That is my band. I didn’t recognize them without me because I’m the only one that matters.
And this is why they kicked you out, Dami.
Batman: *studying a case on the Batcomputer*
Nightwing: *parkour-ing from giant memento to giant memento in the Batcave*
Red Hood: *aiming at the bats with his guns (”What? For target practice!”)*
Red Robin: *rambles on about his Multiverse theories to Bruce while dragging around an IV stand with a pouch of pure liquid caffeine*
Batgirl: *taking a selfie while Spoiler braids her hair*
Robin: *approaching Alfred with Batcow in tow (”I need more pet food, Pennyworth.”)*
Lark: *Snapchatting everyone while ducking to avoid Dick (”Typical Tuesdays”)*
Batman: *finds it hard to focus, stops typing*
Batman: *looks at the chaos that is his children*
Alfred: *serves Bruce some tea*
Batman: Alfred, this is like a waking nightmare of happiness.
Alfred: *grins and walks away*
Orphan: *hugs Bruce’s neck from behind*
Batman: *grins as his daughter skips away to join the fray*
At a candy store…
Clerk: Oh, we don’t accept… *carefully examines bill* “Bat-dollars”, sir.
Damian: That is the most powerful piece of paper in the world! Of course you’ll accept it. Accept it.
In which it dawns on Damian that his brothers have been shi**ing him the whole time (and that Jason and Tim better hide – and hide well – if they want to stay alive).
Tim: Aaaarrrggh, you are such a sore loser, Damian!
Damian: I am not a sore loser, Drake. It’s just that I prefer to win, and when I don’t, I get furious.
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