On a good day my boys get along just great. They play with each other and help each other make forts and car ramps. On this particular day they had just had enough of each other. Dylan making little whistle sounds finally got on Brian's nerves, so he pushed him away. Dylan started to yell at him. I told Dylan to hit his brother back since I too have had enough of the fighting. I had told Brian on many occasions to stop getting physical with Dylan. So I gave Dylan the go ahead to push back. Little did I know they had so much pent up anger that the push turned into a punch and then another and then some kicking and screaming. I was in such shock that I just stood there and watched this fight in what seemed like slow motion. It was just like the movies I could see each move and which ones made contact and which ones missed. Finally I snapped out of my trans and jumped in between to stop them. Once they were separated Dylan doubled over to vomit. I guess Brian got him good in the stomach. I asked them if they felt better? Did they get it out of their system? Both looked at me with tears in their eyes and laughed. I told them to separate from each other for a while, but I wanted them to think about what it would be like not to have each other to play with. An hour later they were playing cars and laughing.
I don't condone violence, but I think I will invest in some boxing gloves because that was entertaining.
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