Solomon

The shrieks have me running. "Mommy, Moooooom! Jonathan pushed me!"

"She took my stuff!"

"I did not! It's mine!"

"No, it's not! It's mine!" he insists.

"I had it first!"

At this point, all I want is for them to stop with the arguing, and especially to tone down the decibles pounding through my brain. "OK! That's enough. What toy are we talking about?"

"She took my Percy!" Jonathan is not happy, since Percy happens to be his favorite train.

"I had it first. You weren't playing with it," Brianna insists.

I have to step in here. "Jonathan, even though the toy is yours, you may not push people when they make you mad. What's the rule?"

"Walk away and tell a grown-up," he grouches. "But I was going to play with that."

"I have a lovely idea," I reply. "How about if I cut Percy in half and you can each play with a piece of him?"

Their answer is loud, pained, and very negative.

"The only other two options I see are to take turns, or I can take Percy and put him in time out for awhile, until you learn to be nice with your toys." They mutually agree to take turns, and run off to play...nicely.

Nobody ever told me that sometimes I would have to have the wisdom of Solomon.