"Go upstairs and teach your sister how to use her "Guitar Hero."
D and R go up and after about 12 seconds, the fighting ensues. I sit and listen as it escalates; screaming, possible bodily contact...finally a door slam and a scream of pain (versus the earlier screams of frustration).
D comes flying down the stairs with a bloody nose. Yea.
"What happened", I ask, wiping away the blood in a calm, resigned manner. "She slammed the door and it split my face open!", D says angrily through the blood and tears. "She just wouldn't listen to how I was teaching her and now my face is split W I D E open!!!!"
"Your face is fine; maybe you should stop 'helping' for the night?"
"Fine", D sniffs.
Why is motherhood so messy?
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