This is EPIC

The girl on the right (doing her vest and nebbie) looks a little sad. She is trying really hard to stay very. very. quiet. and working hard at something. Probably, based on the last ten minutes, working hard at having me not notice that she's not doing her meds. Again.
I tell her (ok, kinda yell at her because it's the fifth eighth time I've told her this in the past ten minutes) to "START.the.NEXT.ROUND. NOW. Or loose what [she's] playing with."
She looks and me and starts to cry. (the little RADical makes-you-wonder-the-honesty-of-it cry where there's about a 50/50 chance either way)...
It's been a rough day with Sunshine.
What? I say in a slightly annoyed, I-don't-want-to-play-this-game tone.
Shhhh. she glares at me
I roll my eyes What is the problem? It's time for meds.
Her lips starts to quiver and after a moment or five finally says Shh. I don't want to make sister sad, I don't want her to see, I was playing with her box, and look what happened, and I'm trying to fix it and it won't work and she's going to get really sad and not let me play anymore and I don't want her to know 'cause it just fell apart and I want to fix it and and sister hears her.
I take a big breath in ready for the war to begin. I don't have time for this right now.  OK, I hear you. you still have to start your vest. It's bed time and they're both tired and MommyM is sick in bed and and and UGH.
She grumbles and starts her vest and goes back to work.

The girl on the right is kneeling down to her sister's level. She looks very focused on the broken box. She's not yelling or gesturing wildly. She's NOT letting out heavy, heaving sobs of sorrow or curling up into a beaten down heap with giant alligator tears running down her cheeks  This is important, what's not happening, just about as important as what is happening.
Sister, What's happened? she says calmly (if a little ostentatiously -lol).
Oh, It looks like my box has broke. She breaths in deeply and sighs in a very-much-like-her-mothers'-trying-not-to-show-the-depth-of-exasperation way. She sits on the floor across from Sunshine and picks at the pieces of the raw craft store box.
Sunshine is trying to glue them together with Bend-a-Roos and (I can't imagine why) having pretty much zero luck. I take a big breath in. They're not killing each other yet, maybe I need to let this play out.
Fe gives another quick sigh and gently smiles (uh-oh?) and starts pulling the Bend-a-Roos off.
NOOooo fifger, I'b fish'shing it. I'b sharry I broke wour box I'b twying to fiz it an' I tink i's gonga work. (We are good at interpreting nebbie-speak and knew she was saying "NOOooo sister, I'm fixing it! I'm sorry I broke your box, I'm trying to fix it and I think it's gonna work")
Fi pulls the rest of the Bend-a-Roos off and put the peices together with some guidance from Sunshine, who remembers where the peices came from.
Di' dis ha'k'y'ed de'or?  (aka "did this happened before.")
No. I've never seen one of these boxes break before but... I- I think we can fix it. Mom, can I have some super glue?
We don't have any super glue. Or any glue that I know of for that point, I had to turn her down noting that we'll have to get some when we can.
They didn't fight. For the first time in a who knows how long, they didn't fight or yell or throw or tantrum or cuss or say they hate each other. They accepted my answer of no glue and moved on. Then meds got finished and they got ready for bed.
They got in bed with only minimal whining and I'm still in shock.

This was epic.