saint stephens day

Nephews John and Tom conducting ferocious sword fights in close proximity to my good self.
A wooden sword inadvertently strikes my gentle preraphaelite features.
"Johhhhhhhn," I cry. "What are you doing?"
"Sorry," sez the nephew.
"You two are like the green and blue budgies," I moan. "If I have one of you alone, I can control him. But when you're together I've no control at all."
John thinks for a moment.
"Well sometimes you do," he tells me kindly.