Introductions have been discontinued due to lack of interest.

So the grandchildren (3 of them, ages 8-13) were over. They decided to play a game of "Chutes and Ladders". Now that game is for smaller kids so it was bound to cause trouble.

Wasn't long before they became bored (well, maybe not the 8-year-old), and thought it would be great fun to tease each other. You know, moving the others' pieces, taking turns out of order, just generally being pains-in-the-butt. Or, at least the older girl did. That's not exactly how the younger boy reacted back, however.

His 8-year-old masculine solution to any teasing by older sisters is as might be expected, on the violent side. Take a pillow and smash the game, along with many angry remarks, of course.

So they decided it was time to stop playing. But it was obvious that the boy's anger wasn't entirely gone yet. I tried to address it, figuring him first, the girls next. He decided it wasn't right that I was telling him to calm down, telling him to curb his anger, that it was necessary to inform me that he hadn't smashed the game, that it was all the girls' fault. Then they cut in, defending themselves with even more lies.

Now I know about masculine anger. I've put my fist through enough walls, doors, etc., to realize that it easily gets away from your control. There are a number of things that will instantly spark my anger and the one that does it the easiest is not being listened to when I'm expressing my opinion. The second is being told I don't know what I'm talking about when I know I do (like whether a game was smashed and who did it). And third is being lied to, especially in a stupid manner.

So, my anger ignited. Luckily I learned one night at about 2:00 A.M. with a sick, crying baby how to control such anger, throttling it. BUT, not before I used my most out-of-doors, drill-sergeant type voice to issue a single word - "MICHAEL!!". As the sound reverberated off the walls, everybody, even Oma, instantly stopped talking, arguing, even moving.

As I continued, calmly, to explain that I wasn't angry at him, that I just needed to remind him that I was in charge and that I decided how the discussion would go, everybody relaxed a bit. I then explained my position, that I understood what the girls had been doing and I would deal with it later but that his anger needed defusing first.

And it was an uneventful afternoon, we watched a movie, Michael was a bit more fidgety than usual but his anger had been quelled by a larger, albeit shorter, one. My son's comment on hearing about it was "I remember that voice, I've heard it. I've even used it a few times."

Anyway, 8-year-olds can be tough. And so can 65-year-olds.

See you next time.