This evening, Boy One would not stop stealing Boy Two's pacifier. He pestered, proded, harassed and teased despite everything I did to try and stop him. Then, the problem solved itself, when Boy Two smacked him, hard, in the ear with a block.
Boy One cried. He cried a lot. He cried the cry of the innocent victim despite his obvious guilt. And I was glad. Vengefully glad. The bully got his comeuppance and Baby Dude stood up for himself the only way he knew how: with a blunt weapon against a tyrant. Nice going, David. Goliath has fallen.
So, facing a sobbing five-year-old, I kiss his face and ask him what he learned.
"Nothing!" he yells back at me, angry and clearly beatten.
"Well, I suggest you leave your brother's pacifier in his mouth next time." I reply.
(Three cheers for the underdog.)