Buying a Cage -- For the Fight

I am sitting here trying to write this post, which is supposed to be about very important things, but I am being distracted by the mounting rumble in my living room. Did bikers move in, I am sure you are asking. Or ruffians? Or circus people? No, no, and no. The battle royale is between my 2-year old, and her 8-year old cousin, Luke. 


In the past ten minutes I have heard the following: 

• "Meg called me stupid." 
• "Luke is stupid." 
• "Meg, I'm going to put you in a black hole."
• Meg screaming.
• "Get out! Get out! Get out!"
• "Don't hit me with 'Tangled,' Meg."
• Luke screaming. 
• "Don't touch that! Don't touch that!" 
• "Get your feet off my back!"
• Both of them screaming. 
• "She can't be Johnny Cash! I'm Johnny Cash!" (They saw "Million Dollar Quartet.")
• "I'm Johnny Cash!"
• "Give it back! Give it back Give it back!"
• "Am I a pancake?" (Yeah, I'm really not sure where that came from.)

I have gone in there twice when I have been pretty sure bloodshed was imminent, but I am really trying to make them work it out on their own. Well, that, and I am trying to write this very important post. 


There was one moment of peace, but it involved Luke playing his guitar while Meg played her accordion. I guess it was nice that for a short time neither one of them was in danger, but it still burned my ears and sent the dog running for cover. It was only for a few seconds though, until Meg decided she wanted to be in the guitar case and the brawl began again. 


Hell, I might as well give up. I am never going to get this very important blog post done with all this racket. 


I guess you'll never know what I think of this fabulous invention: 

Oh, wait! Maybe if they make them in kids sizes as well as babies all my problems will be solved. 


I mean, as long as I don't hang Luke and Meg within kicking distance...