Yesterday when our bigger boy wandered away from a painting he had just started, the smaller boy took the opportunity to add a few of his own touches to the masterpiece-in-the-works. The bigger boy soon discovered the ruined painting and whacked his little brother a good one to let him know how very displeased he was about it. That’s when the storm started. (It would be an hour before it stopped.)
The big boy was sent to time out and I resumed the dinner preparations. He did his time on the steps, stewing all the while, and emerged with a sour attitude that led to more bickering, whining and screeching. And more time outs. My patience was worn down. When I was about to put the dinner on the table, I asked my older son to wash his hands and he told me “no.” I started shouting. They got it: time to change their behavior.
As he sat down, my three-year-old pouted, “You’re not my friend anymore because you shouted in my ears.” Then a moment later he said, “The Bible says when you’re angry, don’t sin.”
Who do you suppose taught him that?
