If you have more than one child, you’ve already unlocked the never-ending reality show that is sibling rivalry —a mix of WWE wrestling, courtroom drama, and over-the-top Bollywood-level meltdowns. One minute, my kids are playing peacefully; the next, there are screams, snatching, and exaggerated tears over who took whose pencil first. They tease each other nonstop mocking handwriting, spelling, or even breathing too loudly, until someone finally breaks down in dramatic agony. But the real twist? The moment I step in to restore peace, I become the villain. If I scold one, the other smirks in victory. If I scold both, they protest in unison, “But Mumma, HE started it! SHE started it!” And if I stay out of it, suddenly I’m the negligent bystander ignoring grave injustice. Yet, five minutes later, they’re whispering secrets, sharing snacks, and laughing together while I, now cast as the evil stepmother of their fairy tale, sit there questioning everything. Siblings may fi...