Get out the whistle and striped shirt...

Yup, it's time to referee.

In this corner we have a 9 year old boy, supposed to be in his pjs, teeth brushed, face washed, and reading.

And in this corner we have an 11 year old girl, supposed to be in her pjs, teeth brushed, face washed, and reading.

The rules of engagement are...there are no rules! It's fight to see who gets to hold the book that neither of them really want, but all that matters is that the other person does NOT get it.

Meanwhile, in the living room, my husband is watching the Canucks and is totally oblivious to any battle unless it's on the tv.

Meanwhile, downstairs in my office, all I hear above me is thumping, banging and crashing.

As I grab my whistle and striped shirt on the way to the main event, I hear a loud deep voice coming from the scene of the no-rules-fight. Yes fight fans, Dad has had to leave his recliner to separate the combatants.

As I make my way through the crowd of spectators (the dog, the cat and the other 11 year old) I see the 9 year old boy crying with a large scratch across his face. The crowd of spectators parts as the 11 year old combatant stomps out of the fight ring and into her own bedroom, screaming about the unfairness of the referee.

As the medic administers first aid to injured 9 year old, the referee launches into lecture number 347 (something to do with keeping your hands and feet to yourself).

The combatants contine to hurl insults at each other from their respective corners (bedrooms) vowing revenge at the first opportunity for a rematch.

The referee returns to the hockey game cursing under his breath, while the back-up referee administers melatonin.

Stay tuned for more excitement. This fight ain't over yet!