There are times when it seems like my kids can't talk to each other without using a "you're the most annoying, stupid person I have ever encountered" tone of voice. It's like listening to a 12-hour debate about who touched who and why do you have to be so dumb and quit looking at me like that and oh my gosh your breath is going to kill me and move over I was sitting there first and no we're not keeping score because I hate losing.
On the weekends when the bickering becomes unbearable and I start checking out the prices of a one-way ticket to Fiji, I always suggest that maybe they should all retreat to their separate corners of the house far, far away from each other. After all, there is a playroom downstairs, Zach has a video game chair in his room upstairs, Charlie has a perfectly comfortable bed in his room down the hall and Zoe has, well, Zoe has wherever she damn well pleases because no one ever wins an argument with her and she never stays in one place for longer than three minutes anyway.
Just when I think that their age gap is getting bigger every day and our house will forever be known as Crabby Kid Headquarters and I'll have to wait until they're all over the age of 21 before they find common ground, the planets align, they quit fighting and sometimes they even manage to find something to do while being near each other:
Granted it's not exactly a Normal Rockwell moment and they aren't technically playing a game together, but at least no one is screaming about who is touching who or whose breath smells like a butt.