Liar, liar, pants on fire!!!!
The utterer of this indignation was a 21/2 year old moppet. Were it not for the glare in her wide grey eyes she would have seemed angelic. Can cherubs be indignant?
My stunned mind observed.
The occupants of the other tables in the museum’s cafeteria showed a kaleidoscope of reactions; amusement, disapproval, annoyance, pretending not to notice, grandmotherly knowing, hand over mouth hiding a smile, whispers behind bent heads, shoulders shaking with laughter.
At moppet’s table big brother smirked. The attention was off him and baby sister was in for it. Good!
The seat next to moppet showed Auntie trying not to laugh. Across, Daddy looked embarrassed, even shocked.
That left me, Mom, cause of the outburst. Action was required. Eyes were on me. It was me that brought her into this world, that spoke the words that led to this accusation, me that was supposed to be in control of my errant offspring.
All this in the limbo of silence. A moment frozen in time and etched in memory.
Take moppet by the hand and lead her into the washroom. Have ‘the talk’. Return to table.
As moppet resumes her seat big brother asks with expectant glee, “Did you get a spanking?”
Moppet lifts chin, triumphant. “No, we just talked.”
Chuckles audible from adjacent table.