December 15, 2015

Masked Intruders

There was lotion smeared on the chair and on the blanket draped over the chair arm. There was a streak of lotion on the floor and covering the tops of a pair of shoes. There was even lotion on the dog.

I was confidant (fairly) that most people living in my house had matured beyond such antics. Of course I knew who the culprit was.

"Joseph Michael!"

His eyes peeked at me from under the table.

"Joey, who played with Annie's expensive lotion?"

I was giving him the chance to come clean.

"Lotion?" he asked with wide-eyed innocence. "What lotion?"

Taking his hand, I led him to the scene of the crime.

"This lotion."

"Oh" was his only response.

He was caught and he knew it. It was time to come clean, admittedly not an easy thing to do when your mama is staring you down, noticing for the first time your shirt front is slicked with small, lotion-y hand prints. His face was slightly shiny, too. Joey wiggled loose from my grasp. "He took a breath and confessed...

"It wasn't me."

I wasn't completely surprised. Where children were concerned, well, let's just say this wasn't my first rodeo. Inwardly, I laughed. Oh little boy. Your mama can see right through you. I decided to help him along.

"Joseph, look at the chair. Look at the dog. Now look at your shirt. No one else in this house would waste Annie's lotion and make a mess like this. Why don't you try again. Who got into the lotion?"

That did it. Even a four year old couldn't refute this logic. He'd been found out. The evidence was overwhelming. He had no option but to fess up.

I will never forget his next words.

"It was those raccoons!"


I had to leave the room.

As soon as I regained my composure, I returned, sent him to sit on the stairs for lying to mommy, spent some time talking about the danger of not telling the truth, and set him to cleaning up the mess.

I must say that was a first. Of course, I'll not tell him I was impressed by his 4-year-old creativity and that his daddy and I had a good laugh about it afterward. Come to think of it that excuse might help me out one of these days. If you arrive at my house and find it terribly messy, I now know who I can blame.

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