My Secret, Evil Plan

Living with my two teenage daughters is a joy. My girls genuinely love each other. They share the same room, their secretes, stories, clothes and jewelry. But every once and awhile they try to kill each other. If they didn't, I would worry.

A recent cat fight occurred on Sunday in front of church after service. One moment I was herding my brood down the path, trying to keep the little ones from climbing the cherry tree and the next I was in the middle of a free-for-all. I don't know or much care what set them off. What ensued involved a great deal of screaming, hitting, punching and name calling. In front of church. I, of course, asked them calmly to stop. Several times. To no avail. By the time they got to the car the storm had passed and they were contrite. After reading them the riot act I informed them that they were required to mop the kitchen and dinning room floors as a consequence.

This morning the fighting started as they were getting dressed and progressed into the kitchen. At its height they were shouting swears at each other, racing around the house trying to catch and inflict pain on each other. They knew better then to try to hide behind me. On to way home from school I again spoke to them about disturbing the peace of our home and then handed out the consequences.

So, now my kitchen floor and dining room floor are clean. The bathroom tub gleams and both of the toilets sparkle. Eventually they will figure out my evil plan and stop the violence, but until that happens I am pleased as punch not to have to do those chores myself.

Note to self: Never clean the house too much so as not to run out of consequences for violence.