There have been plenty of arguments in our family. Spats between siblings, between kid and parent and between mom and dad. Every family member participating in every combination of row and quarrel. Although, Mother would say, “we do not argue we merely discuss.” or ” Nothing more than disagreements debated loudly.” For us, as children, it was normal family interaction.
As we grew and began our own families we did not necessarily carry on the tradition. (seeing that, to our spouses the tumultuous exchanges appeared overkill and not normal) but our children spending time at grandma and pop’s learned early on about our family’s pension for arguing.
One Holiday (thanksgiving or christmas, i don’t remember which) as the family gathered at the homestead. My siblings and I, now grown with families of our own, and sitting around the huge flat screen my parents now own. (nothing like the portable black and white of our youth) We could hear much loud and heated debate coming from the kitchen. Our parents true to form after thirty-some-odd years still at it.
Just as we, their offspring, were having our own discussion on who should go in and break it up, my little niece Arabella enters the room. She is about three or four years old, and snacking on a piece of bread. As we all look at her, we know, but my sister asks anyway. “Did you just come from the kitchen?” Arabella nods. next question “Do you know why grandma and pops are arguing?”
Arabella shrugs nonchalantly and says “You know, she thinks he’s wrong”
From the mouth of babes.