Thursday, February 10, 2005

Sorry, Bucko

Fantastic Kid was upstairs, busy plugging away at his math homework so I was trying to keep my nephews, Scream and Yell, downstairs so he could work with at least some peace and quiet. As the boys were walking down the stairs, Scream pulled the neck of Yell's shirt.

This of course made Yell let out a high-pitched squeal. The windows didn't break, but one might be a little shattered. His face was a neat shade of red, too.

In trying to teach the two little guys how to interact without hitting and punching and kicking, although I sometimes prefer these methods myself, I coached Yell in talking it out with Scream instead of the high-pitched squeals.

"I don't like when you pull my shirt," Yell told Scream after some prodding. I was expecting Scream to apologize, but there was no response."Scream, did you hear what Yell told you?" I asked.

"I heard it," he replied, and went about playing.

"I don't like when you pull my shirt," Yell repeated after some more prodding. Still no response from Scream, let alone an apology.

Again I asked, "Scream, did you hear what Yell told you?"

"I heard it," he replied a second time, and resumed playing a second time.

"What can you tell him?" I asked Scream, hoping to coach an apology out of him.

"Sorry, Bucko." It wasn't the heart-felt, concerned apology I was looking for, but I guess that'll have to do.