Monday, January 30, 2017

The girl ones have all the feels.

“HEY! Stop doing that!”

“WHAT?? I didn’t DO anything!!”

“JUST DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF!”

“OH, so you HATE me? Are you saying you HATE me?”

“I didn’t SAY that!!”

“Yes you DID! You said you wish I was DEAD!”

“I just want to be alone for a minute!!!”

“FINE. YOU WISH I DIDN’T EVEN LIVE HERE. YOU WISH I WAS DEAD!”

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR A MINUTE! I JUST WANT YOU TO LEAVE ME ALONE FOR A MINUTE!!”

They are female. Their ages are 6 and 7. And there is like, zero percent chance I’m surviving their teenage years.

As a kid, I’m not sure I really learned how to fight. I learned how to block my 3-years-younger brother’s oncoming windmill swings when I’d finally said the thing that made him go insane. But I didn’t learn to hit. I didn’t learn retort. Like once, younger brother called me Tubby. I called him Tubby back. He cried for an hour. Needless to say, we were not a hearty, independent bunch.

But really, I’ve always been mostly against the fighting. In fact, I’ve always maintained this very feminist-y, “women are better at conflict resolution and men are boorish brainless punching machines” theory on life. I mean, I’ve never personally felt the need to punch a person. And actually yes, I’ve been punched. A couple of times. It’s possible I have one of those faces you just wanna punch. But I use my words. Like a big girl. Like a grown up.

I am not ripping this off.
CUT TO: Now, I have this set of 2 girls. And this set of 2 boys. The girls use their words. Like razor sharp, double edged knives, they use the words. And the boys, they hit each other. They throw things. Or like, actually punch each other in the face. And, I don’t know. I’m starting to feel like maybe the boys are onto something.

I am not ripping this off.
So I’ve got this idea. It’s called Fight Club. No wait, that sounds like something I’ve heard before. I’m not getting sued today, my friends. So yeah. It’s called… Punch Town.  And what happens is, if any 2 of the kids have a dispute that they’ve decided they can’t talk it out like non-monster things, they go into a room we’ll call the heptagon (because different. Because not gettin’ sued today.) And they just go. No pinching, no pulling, no objects, no kicking. Because forget it Jake, it’s Punch Town. And they punch until, I don’t know. Victory has been declared.
I am not ripping this off.



And I will accept the results of the battle.

Because I will do anything to stop the screaming. Please. Stop. The screaming.



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