“Mom! Sara stole my blue crayon!” Nick cried, on the verge of tears.

“Sara, sweetie, give it back to Nick,” Catherine ordered before turning to the only other 'adult' in the room. “No, Gil, I don’t have time for this--you said you were taking them today!”

“I said I would take the baby--I can’t handle the older ones,” Gil replied, calmly checking over a list.

“Oh, and I can? I don’t understand how you expect me to take three kids grocery shopping. Do you know what it’s like with just Greg?”

“Mom, she still won’t give it back,” Nick continued to pout.

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s Greg or nobody,” Gil insisted.

“Mom!”

“What do you have to do today that’s so important, anyway?” she asked.

“I’m going to a museum,” Gil answered.

“With Greg?”

“Yes. He’ll like it.”

Just then a giggle turned into a piercing shriek and then pitiful wails once Mom and Dad’s eyes landed on him.

“Mom! Sara just pinched Greg cuz he was laughing at her,” Nick said.

“Oh, it’s okay, sweetie,” Catherine said as soon as Greg clung to her.

“That was very inappropriate, Sara. Now I want you to apologize to your little brother. And give Nick his crayon back,” Gil instructed.

“But it’s my it’s my crayon!” Sara whined. “And Greg was being a stupid meanie-head butt-face.”

“Sara, he’s a baby. You’re a big girl. Now, be the more mature one and say you’re sorry.”

“Sorry, Greg,” she mumbled.

“And the crayon.”

“Fine!” And she slammed her palm down on the table, cracking it in half. “I don’t see why everyone has to be so mean to me all the time! It’s not fair!”

It began slowly--a little wobble at Nick’s lower lip, a glazing over of his eyes, and some color coming to his face, before the tears dropped and Nick’s face finally crumpled. “She broke it.”

“Sara,” Catherine scolded. “Now why on earth did you have to do that?”

“Because she’s the meanie-head butt-face!” Nick sobbed.

“It’s okay, Nick,” Warrick said from across the table. “I got another pack. Here, you can use mine.”

“See, now wasn’t that nice of Warrick?” Gil asked.

“No. I’m going to my room because you all hate me,” Sara announced before sulking up the stairs.

“Thank you, Warrick,” Nick said, the back of a fist wiping his eye.

And in no time Greg was back to the table and smiling again. “Blue!” he announced, both halves of the fractured crayon in his hands.

“That’s right, Greg, very good,” Gil said, patting Greg’s head.

“Mmm!” he moaned, both halves of the crayon in his mouth.

“No. Spit those out. Now, Greg. Into my hand. Don- No, don’t chew. That is not candy.” And then Gil’s finger dug into Greg’s mouth to scrape out the crumbling wax and soggy paper.

“Eww!” both Nick and Warrick cried.

Greg began to giggle again, between vibrations of his tongue as he attempted to ‘spittle’ the rest of it out.

“Oh, Greg, now look what you did--it’s everywhere,” Catherine said.

“He got it all over me, too, Mom,” Nick added. “It’s in my hair.”

“Well, Gil, looks like no museum for you. You’re giving these two a bath, I’m taking Warrick out with me, and Sara’s going to continue pouting upstairs.”