My two oldest boys are acting just like brothers from the Bible. Bless them.
They are like Cain and Abel Cain. You know Cain; he killed his brother, Abel out of jealousy. But not just any old jealousy. God asked Cain to sacrifice his best. God wanted Cain to sincerely show his love. Cain didn't feel like it so he burned some crap on a rock in sacrifice to God. Not literal crap, but figurative. Cain gave less than his best. He wasn't sincere. If the sacrifice were words, Cain didn't mean them. And he was so jealous of Abel, who did mean it, that Cain killed him.
"I'm sorry" is thrown around here like "I love you" is thrown around on prom night. Oh, yes, I did just go there. It's tired and insincere and manipulative and is said only to serve a single, selfish purpose. Saying, "I'm sorry" when you're not is a lie. The error is compounded. The anger is compounded. Nothing good can come of it. Nothing.
Pretend sorry is not allowed. Pretend sacrifices are not allowed. No one is allowed to burn crap on a rock in my house and get away with it. I don't want any pretend sacrifices or shows of "love" that are just for show.
So there's that.
Then we have Jacob and Esau. Brothers, twins no less, who disliked each other only slightly less than Cain hated Abel. I believe they emerged from the womb locked in mortal combat. Thankfully, neither committed murder. But Jacob cheated and lied and schemed his way into taking his brother's inheritance. Esau wasn't blameless - oh no - Esau sold his inheritance for a bowl of soup. Things that make you go hmmm.
My boys, they cheat each other. They trick each other. They fought over a Lunchable this morning and I have no doubt that one of them would have sold their birthright for it had that offer been on the table. Two days ago one of them changed the pop tarts in the boxes so that the other boy, who truly hates all pop tart flavors except for Brown Sugar Cinnamon, got a surprise Strawberry. (Some one at Pop Tart - PLEASE - for the love of all that is good and holy - LABEL the individually wrapped foil packages so this insanity stops!) This caused things to be thrown across the kitchen, including the offensive Pop Tart. And the boys were ultimately sold to a band of nomads who just happened to be passing through town.
I didn't actually do that. I'm using it as a segue to the next band of Biblical brothers. Let's call them The Twelve Tribes.
If you're not familiar with the story of Joseph and his coat of many colors, perhaps you've heard of Donny Osmond and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat? It's the same story. Joseph had horrible brothers who wanted to kill him. They hated him but they had good reason to, right? (My boys are nodding in agreement.) Wrong. It's never okay to hate someone no matter how unfair life is.
What's the story, you ask. In modern parlance, the dad in the story always bought Joseph his favorite Lunchable but made his other sons, The Twelve Tribes, eat goat meat sandwiches. It was so UNFAIR they just wanted to kill him. So that's what they decided to do.
Neither of my boys is rewarded the starring role of the virtuous Joseph. (Who, IRL, is much more sympathetic than Donny Osmond would lead us to believe.) No, and on some days, they're not even worthy of comparison to Ruben, the brother who didn't want to kill Joseph. He just wanted to get rid of him... or maybe teach him a lesson.
Most days my boys are the brothers who happily, gleefully tossed their rival into a dry well to be eaten by wild goats. (See previous post about goats gone wild.) And then sold him to a band of nomads so they could purchase an Xbox.
In conclusion, they're both grounded for eternity.
* As a responsible blogger who has some journalistic integrity, I feel it is important to add that once in a while they get along like James and John, the Sons of Thunder, and they work together to bring down someone else who has wronged them.
