Fistful of Trouble

Monday Night

Bob went over to his buddy's house to watch Monday Night Football, leaving me alone with The Triad...shudder.

Ben went to sleep early, which was great.
I was working on winter hats for the kids and watching television.
Elizabeth was playing with her "learning numbers" puzzle and Dylan was running around like a maniac.

He decides that the game he should be playing is called Steal Elizabeth's Puzzle Pieces.

Sigh.

He would steal a piece, run in to where I was sitting say "One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six!" then toss the piece aside and run and get another one.

The exact moment he'd swipe a piece was made VERY evident by the loud, brain piercing shriek emitted by my daughter.
I swear, I got a nosebleed that night JUST FROM THE PITCH OF HER VOICE!

After about 10 minutes of that, she gathered up all her remaining pieces and moved into the room where I was sitting.
He continued to steal her pieces but didn't take them too far since I was sitting right there.
Crisis averted??
Eh, not exactly.

I got up and went into my room to change into pajamas.

Cue brain piercing shriek, followed by deep heavy sobs of a horribly traumatic nature.

"He hurt me! HE huuuuuuuuurt me!!!!!!!!"

I run back in there, half pantsed no less, to find Elizabeth clutching at her head, rolling on the floor and Dylan sitting in the arm chair as though nothing terrible had just occurred.

His act was convincing...oh, except for the FISTFUL of hair.

Yeah. I CSI-ed that crime scene right quickly. I was able to determine almost immediately that the evidence seemed to suggest that in a furious rage Dylan had pulled out a pretty good sized chunk of Elizabeth's hair.

I controlled my own furious rage and sent Dylan immediately to his room (for his own safety). I comforted Elizabeth and looked for the bald patch. Couldn't find it. Chick's got a mess of hair. Lots of hair.

She actually thought I was going to be able to put the hair back into her head. She was quite upset when I told her that it would be retained for evidentiary purposes and then disposed of in the garbage can. Very. Upset.

Meanwhile, Dylan was sobbing in his room. After I calmed down I went in there and explained that pulling out gobs of hair was a very very bad thing. Very bad thing!
That he gave his sister bad owies and made her cry and that is NOT NICE!

He then pointed to his leg and said "MY owie is right there! Kiss it! Kiss it!"
Confused, I was forced to ponder an alternate theory of the crime.
Perhaps it wasn't merely a jealous, puzzle-fueled rage that precipitated the events of this evening.
Could it possibly be that the hair pull was perpetrated AFTER Dylan had been assaulted??

I interrogated Elizabeth regarding the exact circumstances of the hair pulling. She vehemently denied any knowledge of her brother's alleged "owie" and continued to assert that she was the one and only aggrieved party.
Knowing my suspect to be an accomplished liar, especially when the possibility of a time-out is lingering over her head, I persevered.
Finally, under intense questioning, Elizabeth broke down and admitted that after Dylan snatched one too many puzzle pieces she had snapped and smacked her brother in the leg, thus setting off the fury which resulted in her tragic loss of hair.

All guilty parties were sentenced to age appropriate periods of time out.

And that's what we call Law and Order: Parental Unit.