And so it begins: dabbling in untruths.

This past Tuesday I took a much needed family sick day to be home with the kids. They all came down with colds and fevers which turned into coughs that have been lingering for over a week. We enjoyed a lazy morning together, reading books and watching episodes of Daniel Tiger and Wishenpoof—the kids’ latest discovery on Amazon Prime. I admit—regrettably— that my oldest knows her way around the three-remote control streaming system far better than I do. She’s a very capable child. Which is why, at nap time, I decided she could play by herself downstairs while the baby, toddler, and I attempted to get some rest.

After I had gotten the little two to fall asleep, I drifted off for a spell. I was awakened by a loud crash from downstairs. I picked my head up off the pillow and strained to listen for more noise. I heard none. Was this a good sign or a bad sign? I was tempted to fall back to sleep, dazed as I was, trusting that all was okay.

Instead, my parenting judgment got the best of me, and I grumpily padded down the stairs to see what the ruckus had been. I found my oldest girl singing quietly to herself in the kitchen, crouched down, and hunched over the snack basket, which usually resides on the top of the fridge. I made little noise, and so she hadn’t yet spotted me from my position in the doorway. She was too busy rustling through the bags of chips, pretzels, goldfish, veggie sticks, and who knows what else.

I quietly observed that one of the little pink wooden chairs from the art table in the living room had been pushed against the side of the refrigerator. I didn’t need a detective to tell me that she had carried the chair there and placed it just so to try and reach the basket on top of the fridge.

Still, even standing at her full height on the chair, she wouldn’t have been able to reach the basket. She must have used some kind of stick-like object, or at least gotten hold of one of the basket strings, to push or pull the basket from its resting place.

Without trying to startle her too badly, I said, “Nora, honey. What are you doing?”

Once she recovered from the intrusion, she said—without missing a beat—“I was just trying to reach a magnet on the top of the fridge, and then this whole basket came falling down.”

Right, I thought. That’s exactly what you were doing.

I couldn’t even call her out on the blatant lie. I was trying too hard to keep myself from laughing about the whole situation. Like I said, she’s a very capable child.

So, I helped her to open a snack bag, gave her a handful of veggie sticks, and then attempted to go back to sleep.

Of course, the baby woke up five minutes later.

 

 

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