Dispatches From The Front

I sincerely hope that those of you with small children make a regular Friday habit of reading the ever-delightful Megan Cox Gurdon. Her column caught my eye today, not only because there has been a gradual escalation of internecine strife amongst the Llama-ettes, the general flavor of which Mrs. Gurdon nicely catches, but also because of her use of the expression "the Arsenic Hour" - a great favorite of the Missus and mine.

I gave up a long time ago trying to sort out the tangled facts of most of my children's skirmishes with each other. "Never mind the why and wherefore," I usually say these days, "both [all] of you knock it off right now or there's going to be trouble!" This saves me much mental energy that would otherwise be wasted on trying to solve Sphinx-like riddles and leaves me magisterially above the fray, power and prestige still firmly intact. It also discourages informing, something I find rather loathsome. ("Don't be a snitch," is a common refrain in our house.) Finally, I hope it will encourage the little maniacs to learn to work things out amongst themselves. If it takes the threat of summary, impartial execution of all parties involved to encourage such rapprochement, so be it. L'etat c'est moi. [Ed. - no more caffeine-deficient French for you, me boy!]