Don't Play me for a Sucker

Something didn't add up.

My son came down the stairs this morning with a red lollipop in his hand. Signs of licking were obvious. Without being asked, he said his sister had given him the lollipop because he had given her a stuffed pony he found in the basement, that had belonged to her "when she was little." She's only eight now, so the precise timeline of littleness is unclear. I was quite certain though that my daughter was still sound asleep, and she's not one to give away lollipops, even for the safe return of long-lost ponies. The whole story smelled fishy.

My wife asked him if he was sure that was how the lollipop came into his possession.

"Yes, she said 'oh, thank you for the pony, you can have this lollipop'," was his quick reply. The cover story had obviously been rehearsed.

"So, is she awake now?" we asked.

Without blinking, he replied, "No, she gave me the lollipop, then went back to sleep."

He's good.

However, there was no chance any of that had happened, so it was time for us to call his bluff.

"Fine," he started, resignation in his voice. "She's asleep and I took the lollipop from her candy box."

Apparently, we have candy boxes. Who knew?

"I tip-toed very, very quietly into her room and took it from the candy box on her desk."

I suspect there never was a pony.

In seconds, he had gone from good Samaritan to cat burglar, but that was good enough for my wife.

"Thank you for telling us the truth," she began. "It's okay because you told us the truth."

I waited for the rest of the summation, but realized it wasn't coming. I said, "Um, maybe we want to mention something about the stealing part?"

"Oh right!" she said. "We don't take things from our sister's room. That's not okay."

My son put on the perfect hang-dog look and said, "Okay, I won't."

"Why did you do that?" asked my wife.

"Cause I like candy."

Finally, the truth comes out.