“Say you’re sorry!” My oldest son had his face about two inches from his little brother’s.

“I did!” his little brother said, pushing him away.

I’m not sure what crime had been committed by the little guy. but we’ve been trying to get them to work things out themselves, so I did my best to fade into the woodwork.

“Well I didn’t hear it.” My oldest crossed his arms. “Not even the ‘sss’ part!”

“Okay.”

“Say you’re sorry!”

My youngest nodded, the picture of reasonableness. “I’m sorry you didn’t hear me say sorry.”

“Okay,” I said, breaking things up.

I suppose I shouldn’t have, but I knew how I would have responded to that line, and I didn’t want to have to yell at my oldest.