Yesterday the kids and I were playing cards when a noxious odor assailed me. "Ugh!", I gasped. "Who farted?"
"Not me!", said both kids, loudly, unconvincingly, and unsurprisingly.
"Well, one of you did", I said, trying to breath through my mouth. "Say excuse me!"
"It wasn't me!", Liel shouted indignantly as she ran out of the room. She wasn't running from the stench, though. She was running away so that she wouldn't have to face the possibility of saying "excuse me", something which she utterly detests. In fact, she hates it so much that she will often try to bargain with Zion, telling him that she'll say "excuse me" if he does, even when she is clearly the guilty party. Sometimes it even works.
In this case, however, I suspected Zion, and said so. Apparently that made it safe for Liel to come back, and she had something to say.
"Mommy", said she, staring at me with wide, serious eyes. "I know it was Zion who farted. And how I know that is because I've noticed that when I fart it makes a noise." She made a kind of duck bill shape with her hand and opened and closed it, glancing at me to see how this clearly novel information might affect my assessment of farting guilt. I was trying desperately not to laugh, and since I didn't trust myself to open my mouth I just pressed my lips together and nodded.
Liel took this for tacit approval. "It makes a noise, mommy. And since I didn't hear any noises", she concluded triumphantly, "I know it wasn't me!"
Zion, apparently realizing that he was caught in logic trap, grumbled a very grudging, "Excuse me", and, with the matter settled, I rushed off to giggle in the kitchen.
"Not me!", said both kids, loudly, unconvincingly, and unsurprisingly.
"Well, one of you did", I said, trying to breath through my mouth. "Say excuse me!"
"It wasn't me!", Liel shouted indignantly as she ran out of the room. She wasn't running from the stench, though. She was running away so that she wouldn't have to face the possibility of saying "excuse me", something which she utterly detests. In fact, she hates it so much that she will often try to bargain with Zion, telling him that she'll say "excuse me" if he does, even when she is clearly the guilty party. Sometimes it even works.
In this case, however, I suspected Zion, and said so. Apparently that made it safe for Liel to come back, and she had something to say.
"Mommy", said she, staring at me with wide, serious eyes. "I know it was Zion who farted. And how I know that is because I've noticed that when I fart it makes a noise." She made a kind of duck bill shape with her hand and opened and closed it, glancing at me to see how this clearly novel information might affect my assessment of farting guilt. I was trying desperately not to laugh, and since I didn't trust myself to open my mouth I just pressed my lips together and nodded.
Liel took this for tacit approval. "It makes a noise, mommy. And since I didn't hear any noises", she concluded triumphantly, "I know it wasn't me!"
Zion, apparently realizing that he was caught in logic trap, grumbled a very grudging, "Excuse me", and, with the matter settled, I rushed off to giggle in the kitchen.
1 comment:
This is a chuckle for me.
It also leads me to wonder, why Liel has such an aversion to saying "excuses me". Anyway, with time, I feel sure, she will get over it.:)
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