I started a blog yesterday, but had to abort due to sibling warfare.  You’re probably chuckling to yourself and thinking, “oh, boys are like that.  I remember . . .”  Well, you can stop chuckling.  Really.  I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with clinical stuff here at our house.  And I don’t really want to get into the details.  I ended up slumped against the bedroom door, in tears, cradling my jaw which had just been slugged.  The future looked pretty grim.

This morning I’m feeling better.  There was remorse and reconciliation yesterday, and even several family games around the table with all four of us.  Thanksgiving went better than last year.  We actually decorated the Christmas tree together, listening to Christmas music.  Well, almost all of us.  Peter was on the couch with earphones in his ears.  But he was physically present.

And we made some decisions about what games to give away to Goodwill.  We must have 50 games.  And of course there are at least twenty that we haven’t played in ten years.  Such as the “Fine Arts Game.”  Silas saw it in the pile to give away and said, “We can’t give away the Fine Arts Game!”  (The Fine Arts Game, I might add, is a smooshed mess with a completely broken box and pieces spilling freely out of it.  Goodwill would chuck it, I’m sure.).  “Hm.  Let’s process your desire to keep this game,” I said playfully.  “Is it because you like fine art?  And might I suggest that that isn’t really a good reason to keep this game?”  Silas went over and lifted the broken game lid and looked at the mess of pieces inside.  “Oh, alright.  We can give it away.”

So today we’ll be dropping off a trunkful of stuff at Goodwill.  Maybe that’s why I feel more cheerful.  Ah, the joy of giving things away!


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