Arriving home, from school or just a day out with the kids, is always a taxing time: there is hunger, tiredness and the sensory overload of having been out to deal with (both in them and in me). Yesterday, the second we walked in the door, both kids started simultaneously:

"I want something to drink!"
"I want something to eat!"
"I want crackers!"
"I want milk!"
They shouted.

"I want to play a game!"
"I want GiGi!"
They pulled on me.

"I want to play with Brother!"
"I don't want to play with Sister!"
"I don't want to play with Brother anymore!"
"But now I do want to play with Sister!"
They screamed.

"I don't want him near me!"
"I don't want her near me!"
"I want her to stop pushing me!"
"I want him to stop pushing me!"
They hit each other.

I was just trying to keep myself from screaming, "SHUT UP!! Shut up so I can get us all the snacks we so desperately need!" Then I had a brilliant idea. "Let's play the Quiet Game," I said. "You two have to try to be as quiet as you can and sit still and not touch each other while I get us something to drink and eat. If you're really quiet, you'll win." My son loves games, which means that, unbelievably, this cheesy parenting trick sometimes works on him.

But they had to use the bathroom first, simultaneously. When we got the bathroom situation straightened out, my daughter went into the living room. My son followed, but as soon as he got into the living room, he ran screaming back to the bathroom, begging me to follow. I asked what was wrong and he said he was scared. I walked him back to the living room and he ran screaming again to the bathroom. We repeated this ten times, until he finally told me he was scared of his sister, who was actually doing reasonably well at sitting still, although she was making a funny face and a silly noise every time he walked into the room and was then laughing as he ran out.

I decided that nothing was going to get better until he got a snack, so I asked her to go up to her room for five minutes while I calmed her brother down. What a sweetheart! She did just that. Once her brother had calmed down with her out of the room and eaten a few bites of his snack, I asked him again why he was scared of his sister. And he blurted out, "She was making noise and she wasn't supposed to!"

And it hit me. The Quiet Game! Each time he had walked into the living room, she made a little noise, breaking the rules of the Quiet Game. Of course, he ran screaming and crying through the house, but that didn't count.

"Ok, buddy. It's game over now. You can both talk again."

I called her down, gave her her requested treat of chocolate milk, and the two of them played together for the rest of the afternoon. That's what I call a happy ending to a game.