One of the boys that was in my daycare in years past turns 29 this weekend. Hubby and I got to talking about the group of boys I had at that time. There were 6 of them right around the same age. One nice fall day, they came with their favorite football teams uniforms and were all excited about playing flag football after breakfast. We have a large front yard and that was their “football field”. Our back yard is large, too but it was all vegetable garden at that time. So the front yard is where they played. I looked out and they were having a great time, so I decided to vacuum. A job that was endless in a daycare. I was just getting started, when I looked out to see fists a flying. I marched out there and lined them up, all six of them on the front steps, and told them I didn’t want to see them move until I told them. I meant to let them to sit there for a few minutes, give a short lecture on the “no fighting” rule and let them get on with their game. Well, I got distracted with the littler ones in the house and basically forgot about them for about 15 minutes. I looked out and there they sat. I went out, acted like I planned on them sitting that long, skipped the little speech, and told them to go back to their game. I felt terrible, but they didn’t know that. The game went on with no more fights.