Posts Tagged ‘Wednesday’


 

English: Blueberries.

English: Blueberries. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A few days ago I made my mom’s Blueberry Muffins.  They were gone in less than 18 hours.  The plan was to make them again yesterday after picking some up after the girls got home from school and The Mister gave me the checkbook to run a couple of errands.  When I came home I put them in the fridge, hidden, and ran next door to feed the neighbor’s bunny and check to make sure their house was secure.  I was gone for maybe 15 or 20 minutes.

 

When I came back, Gracie was standing at the front door with an empty blueberry tin.  Well, it was nearly empty.

 

“Look! There are four mushy, stale blueberries! Yuck!”  and she looked a little nervous, like she’d been caught in the act.

“Wow! Is that container from the blueberries we made the other day?”

“Um, I… um…”

I realized I needed to change tact a bit.  She doesn’t quite understand the concept of time the same way we do, so “the other day” could mean “a year ago” to her or it could mean tomorrow.

 

“Remember when we made blueberries a few days ago? We made blueberries on Monday.  It’s Wednesday.  Is this container from Monday?”

::squeaks:: “I don’t know!”

It’s time to try a different way again.

 

“Gracie, are those the blueberries I just bought today? Did you eat the whole thing?”

“NO! YOU’RE A LIAR!”

“But… honey did you eat the blueberries that were in the fridge? All by yourself?”

::squeaks:: “I don’t know!”

“I was going to make blueberries with them, but if you ate them it’s okay to tell me the truth.  I’m happy you got fresh fruit into you.  I’m just surprised you ate the whole thing.”

“I DID NOT! YOU’RE A LIAR!”

“Okay, but I can TELL you ate them all! Your lips are blue! It’s just better to tell the truth.  That way you won’t get in trouble.”

She gripped that pint tin for dear life, her knuckles white, her eyes desperate.  I thought she was desperate for me to believe that she hadn’t eaten all of those blueberries on her own.  I really was fine with the fact that she ate all of them.

 

::with tears::  “I tell the troof.  I not ate them all.  There are four mushy ones!”

It’s all in the details, Mom.  It’s all in the details.

 

 

 

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