A lesson in responsibility

I’ve learned something somewhat frightening.  I’ve set up my blog to auto-post onto facebook (although since the last facebook change, it’s not working and I haven’t been able to fix it).  My niece, who is a very cleaver nine-year old, has been reading my posts and feeding info to PalKid.  Now when I write about her, as often as not she harasses me about what I might have said (nothing embarrassing, my dear).  I’m going to risk her wrath to present another episode of “adventures in parenting”.

Last night in the car she said, “Daddy, ask me whose table I sat at in class.”


“Nobody’s!  Someone got in trouble and Mrs. K moved all the chairs apart!”

“Oh!  Who got in trouble?”

“A bunch of kids.”

Poor, naive Pal went back to finding a parking spot at the sushi place.

As I ate my bi bim bop and she slurped her udon, she wanted to play the game again.

“So, who actually got in trouble, Kiddo?”

“Just some kids.  They were being really noisy.”


She was exceptionally easy the rest of the evening, getting showered, hair and teeth brushed—pretty atypical.  I’m not sure how we finally got it out of her, but she fessed up that, “Me and E got in trouble, but it wasn’t really me.  See, E picked me up and spun me around and around in the hall, so really it was her.”

What followed was a brief family meeting on behavior, moral agency, and how being spun around is not all that different from being the spinner, especially when you are wildly giggling.

She took it pretty well, didn’t run off crying or anything.

I don’t really care if she gets in trouble again, so long as she understands why.