"EvAN! Stop it!"
insert much whining and screaming followed by a thud and a smack and then much louder screaming, culminating in the final trump card of,
"Mommmyyyyy!!!! He HIT me!"
"She kicked me, first!"
Damnit. I was trying my best to remain hidden up here in my cave. I even left the lights off and am sitting beside the bed, out of the line of sight from the door; hoping to retain this solitude a tiny bit longer.
I saved my email and began to get up only to notice that the screaming had stopped. This can mean several options:
a. they've moved on from the argument and are ignoring each other.
b. they've moved on from the argument and are playing again.
c. they're still arguing, but have each other around the neck and can no longer utter any sounds
d. everyone is unconscious.
Seeing how it's a 50/50 chance of a Learning Lesson outcome, I remain upstairs and cross my fingers that I can squeeze 20 more minutes out of this shadowy, vacant room. I type away furiously, hoping to write Something Worthwhile and am treated to another conversation, drifting up the staircase:
"Hey Evan! Wanna do this look and search book with me?"
Seriously? They're seriously past whatever situation was so infuriating just 3 minutes ago that they're now all hunky-dory, best-buddies just eating microwave sausage and looking and searching together?!?
How do kids do this? I wish I wish I wish that adults had the ability to forgive and forget so easily.
Then again, they were nearly killing each other over the RIGHT to open a box of sausage BY THEMSELVES, so maybe adoring the simplicity of a child isn't without its faults?
"It's MY turn!"
"I saw it FIRST!!"
Ah. The cycle continues.
Happy Times, my dears. Happy, happy times...
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