In the living room, #4 and #7 had a disagreement. Nothing abnormal there. Siblings are bound to fight every thirty minutes or so.
“No! It’s my turn,” #4 shouted.
A sibling fight is like the weather. Sometimes they are fair, while other times they are foul.
“You un assss-ole!” #7 snapped.
And then, every once in a while, we get an earthquake.