Willa and Henry have found the center of the universe to be whatever toy the other is holding. Disputes ensue.
Unable to find my trusty hacksaw, I avoided the King Solomon route, and instead put the truck away. "If you can't share, neither of you can play with this."
Henry toddled onto the next adventure.
Willa made some declarations: "I don't like you. I don't like this house. I don't like these toys. I don't want to be a mom when I get big. Or a dad. I want to be a penguin."
She stomped upstairs, and he looked at me and said, "uh-oh."
And now I have to stop typing, because - after 3 minutes of alone time in her room -she came downstairs, walked over to me and said - very genuinely - "I'm sorry, mommy."