Around 5pm I did the usual "Daddy will be home soon, let's tidy up the house so it's nice and neat for when he gets here" call. Old-fashioned though it may be, appealing to the kids desire to please their Dad is a far more successful way of getting them to clean up their mess than stomping about and threatening to throw out all their toys. Who knew?
Anyway, they were tidying up fairly well and Offspring #1 was being very helpful. #2's usual M.O. is to grab a handful of toys, trot up to her room and launch them in from the doorway. Her big brother was actively encouraging her to actually put them away and everything was going along rather nicely. They reported back that they'd finished and began playing again when I spotted the tea-set #2 and her 'babies' had been playing with earlier and asked for that to be put away too. #2 sighed dramatically, pouted those beautiful Angelina Jolie-esque lips of hers and flounced off down the hall carting all she could carry. Big brother and I listened as her load was dropped at the doorway and bounced and clattered as it fell to the floor. He sighed, pouted his not-hardly-at-all lips and headed down the hall to sort her out.
I waited for the squabbling to start but was instead reduced to giggles when I heard him declare, "Well! This room is a disgrace!" Then he dug in and helped her clean it up. What a hero.