Posted by: Modern Mom | March 5, 2014

Detective Mom

Sometimes kids lie. Fortunately they are not very good at it. Lately it has been an issue with our oldest boy. When he came to me yesterday with a pretty serious cut on his hand, and no real story to explain it, I had some detective work to do.

Here are the facts as presented by the defendant:

  • I cut my hand on a piece of glass that I wanted to show you.
  • The glass is outside.
  • I don’t know how it got there.

Years and years of mystery novels and detective dramas have taught me a thing or two. So I began with a line of questioning. How did this happen? Where was the glass? Where did the glass come from? I was getting nowhere fast.

I doctored him up and asked him to show me this piece of glass. He took me outside to the scene of the crime. It was a shattered debris field of what was once my beautiful blue glass bird bath dish. I was not amused. I hit him with yet another line of questioning. The hard hitting kind that usually get answers. He clammed up. I tried to pit the little one against him, but he clammed up too. I got nowhere but frustrated. And, you know, it’s hard to play good cop bad cop when there’s only one of you.

I sent them both inside while I carefully picked miniscule shards of blue glass out of the rock path and grass. The debris field was large. Unusually large. I noted that there was a pattern stemming from a large white mark on a corner of one of the rocks. Obviously where the dish hit, then shattered into a million pieces in a northeasterly fashion. Oddly, a few of the larger pieces were back by where the dish originally sat, out of line with the rest of the debris. A picture started forming in my mind.

The boy had taken my birdbath dish for a walk, dropping it on the rock path where it then violently exploded glass shards everywhere. He then tried to cover up his mess by picking up the glass and transporting it back to the original location. That is when he cut himself and had to go for help.

It was a regular Scooby Doo moment. I had solved it. Now, I needed to monologue about it to clue the rest of the audience in on my discoveries. So I went and had a conversation with him, offering him a chance to redeem himself. “I know what happened,” I said, “and now is your chance to tell the truth and save yourself from a second punishment for lying.” Eat your heart out Dick Tracy.

He fessed up. Which is when I discovered that I had one fact wrong. I had assumed my innocent little boy accidentally broke my birdbath. No. He admitted that he had in fact tried to smash it. Mm hm. Guilty!

Lying and breaking my dish. The boy has been found guilty on both charges. He has been sentenced to 2 weeks of work duty. Mommy justice has been served. And I am pretty impressed with myself for deducing what really happened. Of course, I am a mom, and that’s just part of the job description.

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