Saturday evening I got a phone call - right before my phone mysteriously stopped working, but that's another story. So anyway, I got a phone call from my daughter.
Sneaky girl--she used her brother's cell phone. She is programmed into my phone as having a "silent" ring tone, because she calls me with her drama all the time. This way, I don't know she's calling until later when I look at my phone, and by then whatever drama it was that she ABSOLUTELYPOSITIVELYHADTOTALKTOMEABOUTNOW has already blown over.
She's calm, I'm happy, it works for us.
But anyway, so she ABSOLUTELYPOSITIVELYHADTOTALKTOMEABOUT and my son, who is visiting her, ratted me out about the silent ringtone so she grabbed HIS phone to call me (note to self: two youngest children shall now each have silent ring tones) and complain bitterly about a dispute they were having.
My 21-year-old daughter. Called me. To complain about my 18-year-old.
So what do you think I did?
Well, I had them put on the speaker phone. Then I told my son that if she's right, he'll get his butt kicked every day he exists in boot camp.
Then I told my daughter that if he's right she needs to learn to take better care of her things.
Then I told them I didn't care who was right, and to work it out like the adults they were, and leave me out of it, because I'm now officially out of the business of Solving Disputes Among Kids.
Daughter complained bitterly about my failure to react appropriately to her very urgent need to be told that she was right and he was wrong.
I told her I loved her, while she was in the middle of her tirade andheknowsnottodothatItold himoverandoverandhesayshe
and then I hung up the phone
and then I sat in the sunshine.
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