Crime and Punishment

Let me preface this post with this disclaimer:

I love my children. They are my most precious blessings. They infuse joy and wonder into the everydayness of my life.

They also drive me up the wall some days.

Today was one of those days.

It all began after I got out of the shower and was drying my hair. I discovered that the cap on my brand new mousse, that I had just bought yesterday, was cracked. That's odd I thought to myself. I don't remember it being that way when I bought it. Then another thought occurred to me. Someone had messed with it and broken it. There were only three suspects to choose from. The first person in my line up was Mr. Querido. After a short deliberation, I decided that he wouldn't have touched my yummy smelling hair stuff because he hadn't taken a shower that morning. This left two other household members. I rounded up the alleged perpetrators.

"Who touched my mousse?" I queried. In my head I was trying to imagine what they must have been thinking: "I don't see a moose? What is Mama talking about? What moose?"

I show them the evidence.

Looking directly into the older suspect's eyes I ask pointedly. "Did you do it?"

"No. I didn't"

I remember on a crime scene show that if they are lying, people tend to look up and off to the side. Carefully I watch his eyes. Up and over they roll. Gotcha!

Just to cover my bases, I question the younger one. He says the same thing, only his eyes keep looking directly into mine. Either he is really good at lying to my face, or he is telling the truth.

"I heard Brother in the bathroom playing with your stuff." Ah-ha! A witness. Mr. Independent is not a suspect any longer. He has an alibi. He was in bed!

I close in on Mr. Dramatic. "Did you touch my stuff?"

"No."

Question and response continues for another couple of rounds. Then I ask him the motive behind his deception and destruction.

"I don't know."

At this point I close the case. Time to figure out a punishment to fit the crime. I retire to the judge's quarters to ponder sentencing.

As the judge, ahem I mean as I, put on my make up I also discover that my new eyeliner isn't twisting up anymore. That's weird I think to myself, again. I wonder why it worked last night but not this morning?

The perp struck twice! He had taken my eyeliner and drawn on the underside of the bathroom cabinet.

In desperation and extreme exasperation the judge and jury calls in the big guns.

"Mom? What do I do?!?!"

My mother, sage woman that she is, listens patiently and then proceeds to point out that he might need more to occupy his time. She says that usually when kids get into things, they are a)finding a new creative outlet, b)not thinking through the consequences, c)expressing their God-given talents and skills, d)all of the above. I decided that D was the answer to this multiple choice conundrum. She challenged me to find a different artistic outlet for him. I thought that reams of paper, oodles of crayons, markers and pencils was enough. She said that perhaps he needs a different medium to work with.

I tell you people, having creative kids is hard work!

Oh, and she also said that he needs to pay me back. Which is a bit of a problem since he doesn't have an allowance. She said to make a math lesson out of it. Get a big piece of paper, hang it up where he can see it, write the total of the items damaged on the top. Then for every chore I dream up for him to do, subtract 5-cents.

I'm going to be waiting a while for my eyeliner replacement.

I calculated it out and it will take him 139 days to earn it all.

The funny thing is, when I handed him his sentence, he seemed kind of excited about it. Is punishment supposed to be fun?

Does anyone else out there have problems with your sweet darling lying multiple times to you? Even going so far as to blame his little sister (who can't even reach the countertop yet!)?

Sigh. Just another day in the life of a stay-at-home mom.