between the rock and the cold, cold sea

(grin) on a tangent (forgive me, Hawkwing)Paddy - my oldest boy - came home in about 6th grade and asked B and I to please have a fight. He was DEPRIVED. His class had had a big discussion and out-top each other's stories with tales of family rows, and he was VERY LEFT OUT. And there Barbs and I (and we have argued, and even let it get quite illogical once or twice, although, because we talk to each other such a lot we fill in each other's sentences and don't misunderstand each other as much as some folk) had thought we were moderately good parents in this respect. Grin. Don't think you can win.