Sam and Teresa have been at each other's throats. The bickering has gone on for days and days. Who gets to lay on the big couch...who gets to use the taller stool in the bathroom...who gets to use the maple syrup first...who gets on the bus first...someone stepped in someone's snowy footprints without asking...and on and on and on. It's incessent and grating and I'm about sick to death of it. Tonight they finally broke me. We were coming home from my parents and unloading from the van and the two of them tossed that straw...you know, the infamous last straw...onto my back. They were shoving and pulling and making ugly faces at each other. All this to be the first one out of the van. Do you know what I did? I shut the van door and told them if they were going to argue over who gets out first then they could just stay there. And I walked up the walkway and into the house.
Okay, don't call child services on me. I turned around as soon as I put my bag down and went back out to them. I opened the van up and they very meekly hopped out and up into the house. No shoving, pushing, mean faces or name calling. Desired results achieved, but certainly not in the way I want to achieve them. Everyone walked into the house feeling rotten. Me most of all.