I wonder where my children get it from....
I go to the kitchen to make lunch. Their sixth sense tells them where I am, and they come running. "Mommy, I'm hungry. Mommy, I want something to eat." And Parker's latest, "But my belly is starving". After lecturing him on what starving actually is, I send them back to the room to wait while I make them lunch.
My stomach rumbles. I see a bag of chips left on the counter. I look around, knowing where they are, but children can be incredibly stealthy. I slowly and quietly unroll the bag of chips. If there's too much noise, their spidey sense tingles. Under the cover of my daughters loud cries, I rip the bag open. Victory.
I take a few chips out, quietly. Holding them to my mouth and feeling somewhat like a beggar, I slowly munch, making sure to consume every single crumb.
What's that?
It's too quiet.
Suddenly the pitter patter of feet attached to hungry and knowing souls sounds in my living room.
Looking around for somewhere to quickly hide the spoils of war, I launch some chips behind the toaster and choke down the ones in my mouth (even crunching and swallowing is too loud a tip for these detectives). Just in time.... or was I?
"What are you eating?"
"Nothing."
Not a lie, mind you. I am, infact, at the moment eating nothing.
"But I'm hungry."
"I'm fixing your lunch now."
"I want some chips."
"No one is eating chips." Ok, it's getting close, but still, not a lie.
"But look..."
I slowly turn around to face the opposite counter. There, in plain view, is an opened bag of chips.
...
Busted.
But I can outsmart these too, can't I? After all, I am the lead detective of this 2 and 4 year old partnership.
"Well, it looks like we have a thief in our midst. Who was it?"
I try not to sound too demanding, but demanding enough to disperse the crowd.
Failure.
There's blameshifting, of which I was only an observer, and some arguing. I try time and again to make them run, but nothing. These two are tough.
And then, there it is: a false confession, followed by some tears. And a snifling "I'm sorry" with a hug.
An inward knife to my heart and a knot in my stomach seems to guide my hand to the chip bag. I hand it over.
Kids : 1. Mom: 0.
.....Nevermind.