Atomic Wedgie.

Every morning starts the same. Mr Woog leaves for work as the sparrow farts, and I lie in bed and pretend that today is not going to happen.

Harry comes in for a rare cuddle and a little chat. Jack will notice that Harry is not watching TV and will come and seek him out. Jack will join us for a big snuggle and a chat.

As sure as the day, someone will start a small niggle. Maybe one will brush against the others arm. It might even just be so simple as a look, a glance or an eye roll.

AND THEN IT IS ON.

SMACKDOWN!

Normally I try to referee it. But today I just could not be bothered. I slipped out of the bed and out of the room, and over to my new true love. My Nespresso. I could hear the situation escalating so I went and shut the door.

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Go for it fellas

As I stirred a sugar into my coffee, I looked out the window and reflected on the rumblings that went on in my own childhood. I am one of 5, so there were plenty of opportunities to hone in on my combat skills. One of the more memorable ambushes was when one of my siblings, who shall remain nameless, bailed the rest of us up in the toilet. With scissors. We all sat in that toilet, waiting for Mum to get home so she could save us from certain death. Or even a little stab wound. It does not matter that they were safety scissors, in my mind it might of well been a savage sword.

I could hear the rumble coming to an end. The shouting starts to slow down… there is a bit of silence before a deafening howl, heralding the end of the wrestling session.

And as I removed the atomic wedgie from the butt cheeks of the loser of that biff, sorted them out and sent them off to school, I congratulated myself on not becoming involved. Because sometimes it is just better to let them sort their shit out.

Don’t you think?

Do you referee? Or let it go?

Did you have buffo with your brothers and sisters?

Remind me to tell you the story of the South Australian eye gouge some time….