Waiting for a sign

When do siblings really become siblings? I think I caught a glimpse yesterday.

Caroline and I went to pick up Sam from preschool and his wonderful teacher, Polly, said with some chagrin that Sam might be a little upset. Apparently, he had wanted to color me a picture about 3 minutes before the end of class, but she told him there wasn't time to get out the paper and crayons. He promptly burst into tears, very uncharacteristic behavior at school for him. I was feeling rushed and didn't really talk to him about it as we headed for the car.

But Caroline noticed. Sam got in the car with his stormy face, and Caroline perked up right away.

"Hi, Sam!" she chirped, waving.

"Hi, Caroline," Sam droned, making his way over to her seat.

Caroline reached up and touched his face.

"Ohhh," she said with sympathy, "Were you class leader today?" Making a guess about why he was upset.

"No," said Sam. Then, he gave her a hug. They held each other for a moment, then they separated and looked at each other and she patted his cheek again.

"Love you, Sam."

"I love you too, Caroline." Another hug.

Did I mention that I was standing by the car in front of the preschool, trying to not bawl?

When you're the parent of two kids, much of your time is spent trying desperately to not let them fight like rabies-ridden badgers in a sack. You wonder if you might as well buy a black-and-white striped jersey and whistle and start selling tickets, because this is just how it's going to be and you might as well make some money.

And then, something like yesterday happens, and you realize that no matter what happens to you and your husband, they will always have each other to look after and be looked after by. The thought somehow makes all the refereeing worth it.