Things I Never Thought I'd Say

This evening, Boy One would not stop stealing Boy Two's pacifier. He pestered, proded, harassed and teased despite everything I did to try and stop him. Then, the problem solved itself, when Boy Two smacked him, hard, in the ear with a block.

Boy One cried. He cried a lot. He cried the cry of the innocent victim despite his obvious guilt. And I was glad. Vengefully glad. The bully got his comeuppance and Baby Dude stood up for himself the only way he knew how: with a blunt weapon against a tyrant. Nice going, David. Goliath has fallen.

So, facing a sobbing five-year-old, I kiss his face and ask him what he learned.

"Nothing!" he yells back at me, angry and clearly beatten.

"Well, I suggest you leave your brother's pacifier in his mouth next time." I reply.

(Three cheers for the underdog.)

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