We have a pants on fire situation. Today, I decided to put my plants outside so they could get a little sun and since the weather is beautiful, I left my back door open to let the breeze in. I simply love these winter breezes. Lovely! A little while later I glance outside only to see my patience fleeing my body at lightening fast speeds. Both my plants had been moved and one has been stripped of its leaves and broken in half. After a moment of analyzing the situation (and a few deep breathes), I realize that our little man could be the only suspect capable of such a horrid crime. So I begin my interrogation of the plant killer.
Did you break mommy's plant?
No. (in the sweetest, cutest voice with the absolute look of sincerity on his face)
Okay, Did you take the leaves off?
No. (he is too freaking cute)
Alright! (Temper rising, but still in awe of cuteness) Did you move the plants?
No, mama. (This time just a hint of a smile)
Hmmm. How did my plant break?
I don't know! (so serious, maybe he is telling the truth)
This went on for awhile until I realized that he wasn't going to crack. In the end, he did have a burning fanny. Poor little liar.
