Conflict and Resolution

I know that brothers are supposed to fight.  I get that.  But I have never, in all of my 29 years, known two people to bicker so aggressively and within seconds, make such an emotional about-face that they would kiss and hug each other as if the disagreement had never happened.

Who ever said that women were fickle clearly didn't have two boys under five.  They probably also slept more and didn't have the lyrics to "On Top of Spaghetti" memorized.

The more I think about it, their love/hate dichotomy probably wouldn't be acceptable in any other type of relationship.  Just imagining how unhealthy my marriage would be if Joel and I bounced back and forth between verbal assault and playing "slap and tickle" within the confines of one conversation makes my head spin. 

"Joel, could you please change the light bulbs in that light fixture?"

"But I don't want to!"

"That's NOT FAIR!  I didn't burn out the light bulbs so I shouldn't have to change them!"

"You can't make me, Mary.  I'll tell your Dad on you if you try to make me."

"Ugh, you're so mean!"

"You're just a horrible person!"

"Ooh, look Joel!  Friends is on!  Come watch it with me!"

"Awesome!  Want to snuggle on the couch?"

"Yes, I love to spend time with you.  But what is that smell?"

"I think it's the garbage that you forgot to take out earlier."

"Whatever.  Maybe the smell is coming from you!"

I'll admit, my life would be pretty dynamic.  But I think I am more comfortable knowing that I'll always be too lazy to change the light bulbs, and Joel will never remember to take out the trash.  And the smell will always be coming from him.

And as much as I hate the fighting from the boys, it's so comical that I love it all the same.  Sometimes I even look forward to it, while some days I feel as though I might spontaneously combust if I hear another huff or complaint.

Perhaps I am the fickle one after all.