The boys were a grappling tangle of spindly arms and legs. Fingers snatched handfuls of hair and teeth gnashed down on tender skin.
When a coffee table got kicked over, the crash of glass and wood brought down the wrath of the Grand Dam.
“What’s this kerfuffle?” Grandma O’Reilly stomped into the room, pulling the wrestling siblings apart, keeping a tight grip on the two, still swinging furious fists. “Where is your mother?”
From out of grandma’s periphery, a flash of color whizzed by. A masked figure launched a diving crossbody over the couch.
“There she is,” the twins chimed.
Thin spiral notebook 
Funny story. The word “kerfuffle” made me think of some now-antique words that my grandparents used. For instance, they’d have called the couch in your story a “davenport.” I used that word myself until I started getting quizzical looks from people my own age and younger.
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My MIL has a large “sideboard” that I always thought was just a china cabinet.
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It’s always fun to have mothers (and parents?) joining in the fun! Even if the grandma isn’t too pleased with *any* of her progeny.
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Loved this. Funny.
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Hahaha!!!
I just read this to my own dynamic duo. We are all giggling.
Plus, I have that quote framed on on my desk. Next to a picture of ‘my monkeys’. ❤
Loved this.
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I could believe you and the Mister would mix it up with your boys.
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