Okay, you have cried with me at times, today you get to laugh AT me.
The Boy came in the kitchen. "LW ate something and she won't tell me what. She says she'll get in trouble."
The Husband goes to her. "What did you eat?" She shakes her head. "I don't want to tell you. You'll get mad."
"I won't get mad, just tell me."
She wouldn't. "Honey, I won't get mad about what you ate. But I am getting mad that you won't tell me." Silently, she shook her head.
I got involved. Stern. "C'mon. We won't be mad. Tell us."
We cajoled. We got cross. I hollered. We put her in a room by herself. We counted to three ... multiple times. We threatened. We questioned. Medicine? A quarter? A toy? Candy?
20 minutes of this.
"I do NOT want the first child I spank to be the one who had cancer twice!" I hissed at The Husband.
Finally, I asked, "Will you whisper it to me?" Yes.
She crawled in my lap. "LW, I won't be mad, but I am very worried. Now, what did you eat?"
She leaned in and whispered:
I've done many things in my life, but not bursting into laughter on the spot was by far one of the most difficult.
She could read it in my eyes though. Her worried look dropped away and she smiled.
The little booger.