And I don't know what it is.
Allow me to set the scene.
There are four older kids in my house, big enough to know how to get along. And, yet, they never do. As in, never. As in, last night, two of the girls were fighting over who could sit in the front seat - I was out of the car, checking Gabriel into Scouts - while we were parked in the school lot, and one was fighting with a freshly sharpened pencil in her hand. It missed the other child's eyeball by a teeny tiny hair, and the scratch goes - fairly deeply - along most of the cheek.
Yeouch is right.
Now, though, something is up, and I'm suspicious.