Best Enemies

“Gabe! I want to see Gabe. Can we go to Gabe's house? I love Gabe.” My son has a one
track mind. He has been talking about his cousin for the last hour and a half. “Soon,” I respond patiently for the fifteenth time. “When is soon?” My boy asks me. I roll my eyes and ignore the question. I've already told him we would go after breakfast several times.

Finally, it is time to go. We drive across town to my sister's house. Gabe's face peers out the window. He sees my son and jumps from excitement. My son hurries to Gabe's mom who is opening the door for us. Time slows down as the two cousins dramatically rush to each other's arms. “I love you Gabe!” My son declares “I love you Gugus!” Gabe responds. They disappear into the playroom room together, laughing hysterically. My sister and I are content now that our boys are happy. We head to the living room to begin a project. With yarn and hooks out, we begin the complicated process of making scarves.

“Arrrrrg! Stop that!!” The yell comes from the mouth of my son. “My toy!” The other boy shouts. Soon a full battle has begun. Toys are weapons and words are swords. My sister and I stare wide eyed as we decide what to do next. “Boys!” We shout, “Come here.” Our shouts just add to the chaos. We untaingle ourselves from the yarn to fetch our fighting children. “Hey, if you can't play nicely you won't get to play with Gabe anymore.” I threaten my son as I walk onto the battlefield. My son's eyes get big and frightened as he cries, “Noooooooo! I want to play with Gabe. I will play nice.” We watch as our sons go from enemies to best friends. Satisfied, my sister and I return to our project. Two whole milliseconds pass by before screaming emanates from the next room once again. The decision to wait it out is overcome by an ear splitting “Thwump...Waaaaaaaaaah!” I jump up to assess the damage. A quarter-sized welt is forming on the temple of my red-headed nephew. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” My son is pleading.

I do not understand. When the two boys are apart, they are best buddies. When they are together, their only goal is to dominate and destroy each other. The pattern is set. Play, fight, discipline, apologize, play, fight, discipline, apologize. It doesn't matter how many times their toys are put in timeout or how many times they are separated, they never seem to figure out how to be nice to each other. I even make them sit and hold hands until they are friends again but it is to no avail. I only get about three rows done at a time on my scarf. Each time we are interrupted, it takes me several minutes to get back into the groove of making my scarf.

“I just don’t understand them!” I complain to my sister. “I know they probably just want attention but, am I not allowed to ever do anything for myself?” My sister nods in agreement and assures me, “It’s good for them to learn how to work through conflict. I once heard that the secret to parenting is…..” A deafening wail interrupts her knowledge. “Eeeeeeeeeeh! MOMMY!!!!” My son comes crying to me. “I don’t want to hear it!” I snap. “Gabe hurt me.” He says anyway. I take a deep breath and think of a redirect. “Will you help me make food for lunch?” I ask. Quickly, my son’s troubles are forgotten as we get food set the table. “I want the green plate.” My son says the second he realizes that the green plate is in Gabe’s clutches” Before I blink he green plate is hitting my son over the head. “Smack!” The plate war has begun. “Enough!” My sister shouts. She pulls the chairs apart setting each boy at opposite ends of the table. “I really want to sit by Gabe.” My son pleads. “Want Gugus!” Gabe cries out while reaching for his cousin. “Sigh!” I just don’t understand them sometime.

Lunch is finished, my scarf project is back in hand. “Clash, boom, bang!” comes from the play room. I am done caring. “They will have to fight it out.” I theorize. The noise and the stress gets to me I gather all of my son and all his belongings. “Gaaaaaaaabeee!!!!” My child's overemphasized scream follows us out the door as I head to my car. “My project will just have to wait” I sigh. Then, it begins again. “Gabe! I want to see Gabe. Can we stay at Gabe's house? I love Gabe.” My boy begs. I shake my head. “Just like siblings.” I realize, “Worst enemies for now, best friends in the making.”