“What are you doing? You’re just watching them. Stop them!” I yelled.
We were in the kitchen. I ran to the sliding glass door with my arms outstretched. I was about to referee BIG TIME!
He stopped me. He held his hand in front of me and said, “Christine, wait.”
I looked at him hard.
He spoke softly and knowingly, “Give’em a minute.”
I took a deep breath and waited.
Not too long after, he jumped up and swung open the door. He yelled their names. They stopped.
Two sons were in the backyard fighting. Kids fight, I get it, but this one was different. This was the first time fists flew. I wasn’t a fan.
When they got to the kitchen they knew they were in trouble. But neither they, nor I expected what came next.
“Tell your brother you’re sorry and shake hands”, he said.
They were ticked.
Lips pursed. Arms crossed. They refused to look at each other.
“I’m not kidding. You’re not leaving this table until you shake hands and say you’re sorry. If you want to fight like a man, then shake hands like a man.”
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