Last night my children were on the receiving end of a lecture.
It was a real Scotch blessing.
My kidlets had spent much of the day fighting and name-calling and arguing and tormenting and I had spent the day breaking it up over and over and over. It wasn't pretty. It was just one of those "when will this end" kind of days; they happen sometimes.
Anyway, so when we gathered in the living room for our bedtime routine and the harassing and intentional annoying of siblings continued I had had enough and I lost it. I started in on my patent "we are a family, we should treat each other kindly so cut it out before I wallop you all" sermon (ok, I didn't actually threaten to wallop anyone, wouldn't that be a semi-hypocritical note to add to a "please be nice" lecture). I was frustrated. The kids could hear it in my voice.
My children don't really like being chewed out (actually, who does). They were appropriately humbled and quiet...or they were silently plotting their revenge in their minds, I guess I'm not really sure. Instead of our usual bubbling, energetic atmosphere, things became solemn and humorless. There was a somber tone to our family evening and long faces all around the room.
Until someone farted really loud and broke the silence.
Then Josh couldn't hold himself back and said, "Well, that attitude stinks!" and we all busted up laughing.
So much for somber.
And things were pretty much back to normal. But I guess that's the way we like them anyway. I hope, maybe a little piece of my repeated pleadings for kindness sticks with them, but I'm glad we could end the evening on a good note (even if it was a smelly one too).
Just another day at our house.