World War III

Last week, we witnessed World War III (or IV....heck, probably V at this point) in our home and I can't even tell you what caused it.  All I can tell you is that the boys were playing in the pool and then BOOM, the first shot was fired!  The war began and there were no white flags in sight. Rather, it ended with Warren drying off, running straight to his bedroom and packing his clear, little backpack to go "live on the streets".  When I asked why he was leaving, he said "because Harper tried to kill me." Trying to keep a straight face, I asked him if he thought running away would be a good idea for anyone.  He stuck to his guns and seemed to think it would be best for him.  Meanwhile, Chris stayed outside with Harper who yelled "But he called me a super jerk-o!"

As Warren stormed back through the house in tears, I reasoned with him enough to get him to come talk to me.  We sat down on my bed and he just cried and cried.  I asked him to tell me what he packed.  Now, I, myself, do not have any experience sleeping on the streets...so I'm not sure what sort of answer I was looking for here.  But, he seemed like he had the basics covered:  socks, underwear, pajamas, shorts, shirts and his football pillow so he "would have something soft to lay his head on."  He also made a point to pack his I Love You To the Moon and Back sign so he "would remember how much we loved him."  I asked if he would at least stay for dinner, as I had just finished cooking and it was hot and on the table.  Obviously not liking that idea, he stormed back through the house saying he had to leave.  However, when he reached the kitchen table (where his warm dinner sat), he changed his tune (just a bit).  "I'm going to eat dinner first, and then I'll leave" he said emphatically.  As you can imagine, dinner was (as the boys would say) "awkward".  It was as if we took a World War III time out and returned to our  "normal" lives.  But as soon as dinner was over, the War resumed.  Warren stormed off again in tears and Harper started crying again.  When we asked Harper why he was crying, he said "Because I don't want Warren to weave."  So, Chris sat and consoled Harper while I took WD (Warren Duty).  This time Warren complained of a headache (something Chris and I could've told you from the beginning) and said he was just going to go to sleep, but would leave in the morning. 

While still at the table, Harper asked if he could be excused to go ask Warren something.  In an effort to prevent World War IV, we asked what he was going to ask.  He responded, through tears, "I'm going to ask him if he would pwease stay.  I don't want him to weave."  

Update:  We are pleased to report that Warren is still living with us!