i’m sitting on the couch. It’s Quiet Time. This is what we designate the hours between 1 and 3ish.

Jocelyn is supposed to be “sleeping” in her room.

Ethan is supposed to be playing quietly in the toy room.

Jocelyn left her room long ago and has been playing in the toy room. I don’t really mind. It’s not like she was actually going to sleep, heaven forbid.

They’ve been doing pretty good, but I’m currently hearing some disagreement noises. No one is crying, so I stay put on the couch in the living room.

Soon enough, I hear the door opening, and soft accusatory voices directed at each other as they make their way downstairs.

“I’m telling mommy that you hit me on the leg.”

“Well, I’m telling mommy that you hit me on the head.”

“Well, you hit me on the leg with your leg.”

“You hit me on the head with your hand.”

Soon they arrive in front of me. Jocelyn is all decked out in several of her dress up garbs, complete with wings. No one is particularly upset. Voices are not heightened. They almost don’t even seem upset with each other. It’s like they’re standing before me JUST FOR THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING. TATTLING IS SOMETHING WHICH MUST BE DONE, NO MATTER HOW MUCH I DON’T CARE THAT YOU HIT ME.

Jocelyn starts. Ethan waits patiently until she’s finished. I hear about the hitting of the leg, WITH THE OTHER LEG, and the hitting of the head WITH THE HAND. As each one finishes, the other starts back in about their body part that has been afflicted. They would probably still be standing in front of me, calmly going back and forth about the head, and the leg, and how each of these important body parts were injured, calming waiting their turn to reiterate, until I interupted. South and North going Zax indeed.

I ask them what happened to cause all the hitting. They look at me blankly. Didn’t I realize that the HITTING just happened out of the blue? Hitting just happens. There is no reason for it, their blank looks seemed to say.

“Was there something that someone wanted and the other one had?”

Finally Ethan comes to life. Eureka! That’s right! THERE WAS A REASON FOR THE HITTING, he seems to think.

“She had my parts.”

“Your lego parts?”

“Yes. My lego parts. I wanted them back.”

“Jocelyn did you have his lego parts?”

“No.” (this, for ONCE is said in a normal, soft tone. Usually when the word “no” comes out of her mouth, it is emphasized as if she is explaining something to the dumbest person on earth, and it sounds like, “noooooooo-wuh!” This “no” consisted, miraculously, of only 1 syllable.

It’s also a miracle that Ethan doesn’t interupt at this point, but he just listened patiently.

“Did you?” I press her.

“Yes. I did. I took his parts.”

“Tell him you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry I took your parts.”

“and that you hit him on the head.”

“I’m sorry I hit you on the head.”

“Now Ethan, tell her your sorry you hit her.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hit you. I’m sorry I hit you on the leg with my leg.”

“OK guys, it’s still quiet time. No more hitting, and if someone has something you want, ask nicely. OK?”

“OK!” they holler as they scamper off up the stairs.

Most polite, calm, patient and quiet disagreement ever.

If only they were all like that.