Today they beat medown to a pulp. They whined and poked and bickered with each other all the livelong day. In other words, they acted like children. The nerve.

When they did come together, it was to unite against me. They plotted and gamed me, and they won.

I lost my cool, my mind, and my desire to do any of it well by 4 pm.

They worked against me and it felt personal. Because it is the most personal: they  are the most personal to me. My cooking was wrong, my suggestions were wrong: our connection was off. I whined and poked and bickered right back.

Our ages are such that I just never know who’s going to wake up and come down the stairs on any given day. Did we get enough sleep? The right food? The hell if I know.

Sometimes, despite my best efforts and intentions, we wake up as jerks and no amount of love can bring the people I want to call my own back to me.

Once we’ve given up for the night, we talk together and fall asleep together laughing about the jerks we can be and the ones we’ve made and love together.

We sleep and wait for tomorrow’s sunrise and we pray to live to fight another day.