Sisterly Love

This image says it all, doesn't it?

My daughter has a temper. "Fiery red head" is an apt description for my middle child ( technically only by two minutes).  She was aggravated by her four year old little sister when she stomped outside and scrawled this on the chalk board. It really didn't help when the aforementioned sister followed her outside to ask her what the words said. Me? I was just glad that she was angry with someone else for once! She apparently found a form of expression that worked for her, she even read the note to her little sister and told her why she was mad. Of course this opened up a whole other problem with the little one in tears thinking her idol does not love her.

Right now, this moment, they are playing nicely. I am on the edge of my seat waiting for "the scream" followed by the usual "MOMMMMYYYYY!" There really is no....wait....there it is!

::intermission::


No one was hurt, although, if you happened to be walking by my house you might have been inclined to call 911. Please don't.  All you would have found was a 10 year old and a four year old screaming because they both wanted to sit in the same chair. 

It is at these moments I morph into my mother. All those cliches that were said to me by my own mother come flying out of my mouth. "Stop instigating your sister!" "Your crusin' for a brusin'!" (one of my favorites) "Some day you'll only have each other!" And the classic, "Because I SAID SO!"  Often I don't even realize what I said until it bursts forth from my mouth. My inner voice is asking me with surprise if I actually uttered those same words.

So now I am wondering if all moms out there are just repeating the same thing generation after generation. How far do these cliches go back? Are we actually speaking the same words our great great great grandmothers spoke to our great great grandmothers? If so, we need some new material!

I love watching them when they play together nicely, I get all warm and fuzzy inside.  It is the fighting that almost drives me crazy! But, as my father used to say, "Almost doesn't count!"