Fighting

I'm home alone with the kids today, and they've been fighting for about 40 minutes. There's no good reason for the fighting as far as I can see, and it's making me nuts. After the 19th million:

"MOM! little kid won't stop--"

"Big Kid, that's it. I'm tired of it. If you guys can't get along, one of you has to go. We're taking little kid to the orphanage. Is that what you want? For your baby brother to live alone without us somewhere, hoping to find a new family that will love him?"

(Yeah, this sounds like bad parenting but I've tried it before and it usually brings Big Kid to tears and makes him want to fiercely protect his brother from the type of mother that would drop him off at an orphanage.)

He stared at me silently for a moment before he spoke.

"Little kid--go get your clothes on. Mom's going to take you back to Dunkin' Donuts for more donuts. Get dressed quick, so she can take you somewhere fun," he called out before cupping his hands around his mouth and whispering to me, "Don't worry, I'll make it easy for you, mom."

So, that backfired. Now they're fighting again and there isn't even an orphanage around here.