Friday, February 16, 2007

Chocolate fingerprints, a sure give away

Yesterday we had a full house. My knucklehead best friend and her four kids came over for the entire day. I say knucklehead because when I called her yesterday morning I could hear in her voice that she wasn't exactly having a great day. I asked what was wrong and she said that she was freezing because the house was only 45 degrees. They had slept, or had tried to sleep, in their home, now turned icebox. Like most in the eastern part of the country we got hit with an ice storm on Wednesday. Her town lost total power. She only lives 15 minutes from me. The KNUCKLEHEAD didn't call me so the six of them could avoid frostbite. I told her to pack up and get her silly ass over here. I cranked up the heat and when they got here the older girls took turns taking LONG, HOT showers while the younger ones paired up (our daughters and then our sons) in bubble baths. It was a great day, the kids played while she and I gabbed over some tea. She and I made dinner together and the eleven of us sat down and stuffed ourselves. They got word that power was restored and they were able to go home, much to the chagrin of the kids. They were disappointed because they had been planning sleeping arrangements all day. Darn that power company ruining their pajama party!

Because of the ice storm, school had been closed on Wednesday which was Valentine's day. So W. had his party yesterday. Perfect timing. He came home and sugared everyone up with all of his Valentine goodies. A sugar high for seven kids....Woo Hoo! Anyway, T. comes downstairs and shows me this BIG candy bar that his brother, bless his soul, was nice enough to give him. I told him dinner was almost ready and he could eat the candy bar afterward, IF his meal was finished. "Okay", he says and runs back upstairs. I had a fleeting thought that it was too easy, but I was cooking and didn't want to burn the sausage. I know, I know, you are all shaking your heads saying, "She should have taken away the candy bar." Hindsight. T. comes back down about, I don't know, 3 seconds later and this is the conversation that took place:

T.: "Can I have a washcloth?"

I turn around, trying not to laugh, "Why?"

T.: "My hands are dirty." He's got chocolate ALL over his face and hands.

Me: "How did that happen?"

T.: "I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders and is now getting nervous. He begins to play with the refrigerator door handle. Chocolate fingerprints are getting all over it.

Me: "You don't know?" Stifling a laugh.

T.: "No." Very sheepishly.

Me: "Did you eat that candy bar maybe?"

T.: "I don't think so."

Me: "But isn't that chocolate all over the refrigerator?"

T.: "Hmmm. Let me take a closer look. How did that get there?"

Me: "Okay, dude, jig is up."

I swear if I didn't put an end to his little charade I'd still be trying to get a confession.

8 comments:

Slackermommy said...

Cracks me up how kids lie about the obvious!

Rootietoot said...

When my 19 yr old was 5, he got into a tube of black frosting I had. His entire mouth, teeth, lips...were black. I asked him why did he get into it, and he said he didn't. I said his mouth was black, and he said no it wasn't. So I put him in front of a mirror and he *still* told me his mouth wasn't black and he didn't get into the frosting. So I told him since he didn't get into the frosting he couldn't have a piece of cake after supper. Ha.

Isn't it funny how kids of a certain age believe that just because they say it, it's automatically so. Damn the evidence.

Maria said...

I LOVED the bit about your kid fingering the fridge door handle. That is always a dead giveaway, huh?

Justice Fergie said...

Too cute. That's a hard and fast rule in my house: "Do Not Let Daughter Take the [fill in the blank] Out of Your Sight!" She always asks first but, if we say no, she tries to do a grab-and-run and abscond to her room with the contraband snack :-) It would be cute but for the blue corn chips being smashed into her beige carpet. Oy!

Surviving Motherhood said...

sounds like he could be a great lawyer when he grows up...or car sales man! ;) what a cute story.

Surviving Motherhood said...

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Surviving Motherhood said...

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Ishkabibble said...

Great story! Sometimes it's nearly impossible not to laugh when trying to reprimand. My son (now 9) has always self-tattled. A few years ago I discovered he'd drawn on the wall with magic marker. How did I know he was the culprit and not little sis? He signed it.