Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE a good bowl (or two or three) of ice cream. If you didn't know, maybe this story from my childhood will prove my undying love for it:
I was young--about five or so. Mom worked from home with her Whiz Kids Home Daycare. At any given time there were a good dozen or so (sometimes more) little rugrats running around the house (plus another five of us that called her "mom").
Mom was busy. And probably very overwhelmed (heck I can barely handle four of my own youngsters). In addition to the home daycare, she had a busy church calling serving as the President of over 100 children ages 3-11. She also took care of our family, chauffered us to games/practices, and maintained a 4,000 square foot home. Yep, she was pretty awesome (And still is).
It was during this time that Mom found someone had been wiping their boogers on the wall. As if she didn't already have enough on her plate, she now had to scrub the walls to make them booger-free. In her despair, I remember her gathering us kids up and lining us up along the entry-way wall.
"Who did this? Who is wiping boogers all over the walls?"
Everyone stared at their feet. Including me.
I knew who the guilty person was--it was my little brother, Spencer. He constantly had his chubby fingers up his nose. And if he didn't decide to eat them, he smeared them on the wall nearest him.
The room was still silent.
"Whoever confesses that they did this, I'll buy him ice cream" said Mom.
Mom didn't realize her mistake of how she worded it. Instead of basically persuading people to lie just to get some answer, she should have said, "Whoever tells me the truth gets ice cream."
But I didn't care. I'd take the blame for ALL the boogers all over my neighborhood if it meant I could get my hands on some succulent ice cream.
And so I confessed. Or rather...I took the blame for it.
Instead of ice cream, I was reprimanded and handed a sponge.
I'm still waiting for my scoop of ice cream.
No comments:
Post a Comment