It went something like this . . .
There had been minor skirmishes and scuffling all night. So far, harmless.
Then, I hear Chance crying in the living room.
I hear Colton saying, over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
I walk in to find Chance on the ground, and Colton crying, still saying "I'm sorry" with a hockey stick in his hand.
I tell Colton to put away the stick and head for the stairs. Then I ask what happened.
No one will answer.
I ask again, a bit more forcefully.
"We were playing Batman and Joker!" says Colton.
Is this true?
Did you go into this game knowing he had a hockey stick?
Again, Chance confirms.
If you are going to make poor decisions like that, Colton's not the only one in trouble. What a ridiculous idea! Both of you to the couches - it will be nothing more adventurous than a book for the rest of the night.
I head back to the kitchen to finish the dishes.
Colton comes out crying.
What's the matter now, buddy?
"I'm just sad for all the people who got robbed!"
Really? And what possible train of thought could have brought you off the couch, where you are supposed to be reading, to offer your sad story of robbers here in the kitchen? Aren't you getting a bit off track?
"No! I chose to read my bible, and that's where I saw the robbers, and they DID make me sad!"
Well, there you go.