Brock and I are convinced that our children are part of the mafia. It does not matter what the situation is, no one knows who did it, no one saw anything and no one will fess up. Tonight I went into the kitchen cabinet to get out a snack. I keep 100 calorie snacks around for me and buy regular snacks for the rest of the family. I had one package of 100 calorie Hostess Ding Dongs left as of yesterday. When I went to get my snack, the box was in the cabinet totally empty. So, I asked “who ate my last Ding Dongs”? I immediately hear their famous words “It wasn’t me momma”, “I didn’t eat it momma”, “I never eat your snacks momma”. I proceed to ask more questions all with the same response. It’s like a dead-end road. Last week someone wrote on one of the chairs in my van with a permanent marker. “Who colored on my van chair?” The response “I didn’t do it momma”, “I don’t color on chairs momma”, “I don’t know who did it momma”. About three weeks ago Brock noticed that Makensie had bangs, bangs cut to her scalp that is. This was a new look for her since her hair has been all one length for most of her little life. “Makensie, who cut your hair?”. “I don’t know, I didn’t cut it”. Really? Someone broke into our house in the middle of the night, snuck into her room, cut her hair to the scalp just in that one spot? Yep, according to her, that must be what happened! To this day, she has no recollection of how her hair got cut.
What are we going to do when these three musketeers are teenagers? We are in big trouble!!
karasawyer 