Sweet Little Lies

This picture is a couple of years old, but the attitude captured in it is always current. Read on. 

I was cleaning up dinner when I heard a loud "crack" from the playroom. Kieran immediately started to wail.

"What's going on?" I called as I walked, drying my hands on the way.

Kieran, in full-out cry, reached for me. Teyla, sitting on the floor next to her brother, wore a scowl.

"Did you hit Kieran?" I said with my eyebrow cocked and serious face, which is Mommy code for: Don't even TRY to mess with me.

"No," Teyla answered, more to herself than me, scowl louder than words.

"Teyla," I said, shifting the still-bawling Kieran to my other shoulder, "look at me." (Mommy code for: I so know you are lying.) "You and Kieran were playing nicely in here, and now something is wrong. I want you to think about it again, and tell me the truth. Did you hit your brother?"

There was a long pause as we stead at each other. Then Teyla's eyes shifted to the side and her words slid out in a long, tremulous, "Nooooooo."

I sat Kieran on my knee and asked the offended. "What happened, buddy?"

"Tey-da HIT ME on da HEAD it HURT!" he practically shouted with righteous indignation.

You could almost read the thought bubble above Teyla's head. "Crap! I forgot he can talk now!"

I stuffed the laughter threatening to bubble up inside me, and I stared hard at the offender, "Teyla, would you like to tell me the story again? Did you hit your brother?"

"Yes," she sighed, equal parts remorse and resignation.

I thanked her for her (reluctant) truthfulness, talked stern about honesty the first time and then hugged away the hurt in both my youngest.

Then I returned to the kitchen and giggled until my sides hurt.

Mommy code for: I win.