I was just trying to relax in my study and read a good book, when I heard a scuffle in the boy’s bedroom. Davy came in and cried, “Ben won’t give me the dictionary.”
My two sons were fighting over the dictionary. If you know Ben and Davy, you know how unusual an event that is. I was debating about whether to be delighted or dismayed with this sudden conflict over words when I realized that I was mostly tired. And when moms are tired, no fair hearing is necessary. “Ben, give Davy the dictionary right now,” I said.
“How do you know I’m not trying to use it?” he asked.
“You’ve never sought a dictionary in your life,” and I snatched it out of his hands. He was silent probably because he was trying to figure out what “sought” meant. He stormed off to his bedroom and sulked, loudly. You may think sulking is a rather quiet pursuit but not in this house. Doors are slammed. Things are tossed, including smaller people.
Feeling like I had judged a little too quickly, I went into Ben’s bedroom and said, “Just tell me you were really using the dictionary.” He was silent.
He shifted in his bed and finally turned over and said, “Well, I was using it a little.”
“Like you were using it a little to torment Davy?”
“Yes! Exactly!” he said. I was glad I could validate him. Sort of.