Tall Tales
01 Sep 2011 Leave a Comment
The only people who truly believe that children are inherently good or innocent have never had a three year old. Three year olds are amazing weapons of mass destruction. Why Al Qaeda hasn’t tapped into their uncanny ability to cause widespread havoc and chaos is a mystery we will never solve! Possibly because three year olds can induce terror in even the deadliest of extremists…somewhere there is a toddler running around with his Dad’s turban and AK47 playing jihad while his mother hits the deck yelling, “I said ‘Put that down!!!’ That’s not a toy!” Maybe not. But it’s a pretty funny image.
The great thing about threes, though, is that they always seem to tell on themselves when they’ve done something wrong. It’s a natural progression that occurs from the time they are one. At one, it’s “uh oh!” as the point their fat finger at the light socket hole they’re about to shove it into. That at least gives you a chance to nab them before they fricassee themselves. At two, however, they get a little smarter and make sure they complete their wrongful acts before they alert you. You may be minding your business, catching up on your latest Reality TV obsession, when they toddle into the room covered head-to-toe in Gold Bond powder and wreaking of men’s cologne, as they say, “I didn’t make a mess in Daddy’s bafroom.” Fabulous. Someone broke in and assaulted you with men’s self-care products? What kind of neighborhood is this?
But at three, they begin to wise up to the facts that: (1) there are consequences to their actions, and (2) “It was an accident” don’t fly like it used to. And if your three year old is REALLY smart, they will learn to blame someone or someTHING else for the alleged crime. Chairs in our house have been responsible for the most atrocious and curious things, as have innocent relatives and playdates, and the all-to-infamous invisible monster. One time Hannah even blamed my mom’s dog for dumping all the shampoo into the toilet along with her toy boat, a screwdriver, and one of my shoes. Nevermind the dog was three cities away. Sneaky dogs!
Today it was this:
Hannah: (as she comes running out of my mom’s room) “Why is mammaw’s bed all wet?”
Me: “I don’t know…why IS mammaw’s bed wet?” (seriously hoping she didn’t pee in it)
Hannah: “That ice melted and made her bed wet, I guess.” (smiling)
Me: “Ice?? Hannah, did you put ice in mammaw’s bed?”
Hannah: (looking like a deer caught in the headlights now) “I didn’t do it.” (looks at Jayden with those ‘don’t-rat-me-out’ eyes)
Jayden: (looking like a deer caught in the headlights as I stare at him with my ‘you-better-own-up-to-it-or-rat-her-out’ look) “I didn’t do it either.”
Then they both stare at me with satisfied faces in their united lie.
Me: “Well somebody put ice in mammaw’s bed. Who was it?”
Them in unison: “Not me!”
Then they look at each other and the explanations begin…
Hannah: “It wasn’t me and Jayden didn’t do it. Maybe that monster did!”
Jayden: “yeah, that scary monster! Let’s go get him Hannah!” (pretends to shoot a gun)
Hannah: “Yeah, let’s go get that creepy little green monster!” (shooting noises are heard as they run to the hall closet to exterminate the monsters)
But just as they go, Hannah turns and declares: “I’m thirsty!”
Me: “Where did you leave your cup?” (of ice water)
Jayden: “She left it in mammaw’s room!”
Ahhh…of course. Why did I even ask?
