My mother grew up on the streets of the Bronx. A little girl living there had to learn to defend herself at a young age. A Sunday breakfast I will never forget is the time my dad came to the table with 2 black eyes spit lip and deep scratches down his face. He told my younger sister and I he fell down the stairs. I will never forget the look on his face when my mother said " kids thats not true, daddy hit mommy last night, mommy had to make sure daddy never made that mistake again. Mommy beat daddy over the head with a frying pan" ( cast iron)That is the only time my dad raised his hand to my mother.
EXACTLY !!!!This is my boys, almost exactly, except you can substitute guns and bows for Minecraft and it's perfect.