The Peace is Shattered in my Home

I wanted to buy myself a new shirt today.  But I don’t need a new shirt, I just want one, so I stayed at home.

And now, four hours later, Boy7 is working hard to drum up tears in the bathroom, Boy9 is sulking behind a curtain in the dining room, and I’m pouting in the playroom.

I really should have gone shopping today.

Darling Husband is out in the shed, quietly preparing for a class he’ll start teaching in a few weeks, blithely unaware of the storm brewing just 50 feet away in the house.


Ok.  Things are better now.  Poor Darling Husband finally came in from the shed, merrily humming a happy tune, only to find us all in our corners, fuming.

Turns out that all the years of working in IT at a touchy-feeling college, where the professors are somewhat overly emotional, have turned him into quite the negotiator.  He brought us together and calmly asked, “What’s going on in here?”  I told him how unreasonable the boys were being and they explained how narrow-minded I was being.

After a lengthy discussion, the family came to the conclusion that if we want peace on our home, we should never, ever again debate over which of the Star Wars movies is the best.  *coughempirestrikesbackcough*


Picture of the day.  The strawberry cake with buttercream frosting the boys and I made together after we reconciled.


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