Yesterday after the boys came home from school we took them, as we often do these days when it is still not too hot, to the playground. Jamie was particularly excited to go and play with some new sidewalk chalk we got him and he drew, with great enthusiasm, a number of highly abstract compositions.
By the time we got back to the house for dinner, however, things were breaking down. I think both boys sort of bottle things up while they are at school, and are tired at night, and so can be a little emotionally fragile. It started with Jamie being told we couldn't read a book to him at the moment because we were getting dinner ready. While he was lying on the couch sulking about this, Connor lay down next to him and proceeded to begin kicking Jamie's head repeatedly, laughing happily all the while. We put a stop to that, but Connor then decided to try to pull the juice cup out of Jamie's hands (his own cup was no longer of any interest). By the time we had separated them, it had turned into one of those magic, happy times when both boys are simultaneously crying at the top of their lungs. Jamie had a hard time coming out of it and eventually was sent to his room for a time out. He still didn't really come out of it, however, and continued complaining. In exasperation we said, "Jamie, if we're such bad parents, why don't you call the police and have us arrested?" At which point he screamed, "Noooooo! I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" We totally melted at this of course, and many hugs were had and things settled down.
Meanwhile, Connor had taken the opportunity to get a hold of Jamie's juice cup at last and was happily gulping away.
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