Kids are jerks. I’ve been looking for a certain set of keys for a few weeks now. I could not find them for the life of me. LK kept telling me, “It’s ok, Mom, you have other keys.” Yes, I know I do, but I needed THOSE keys. Weeks of this. Finally enlisted the older two in the search. I’m tearing the house apart. Show the older two one of my similar key chains and tell them, “It’s like this, but pink.” Of course, LN is quick to say, “Mom, I’m colorblind, I don’t know what pink is.” (Haha oops) so I show him a pair of the baby’s shoes and tell him it’s that color. We have to leave to get to a scout event that evening. I’m still freaking out, and mention I’m also missing my PulseOx. From the back seat I hear LK, “That’s in my bathroom upstairs, Mom.”
Ummmm… what? “The PulseOx is in your bathroom?” “No Mommy! The keys on the pink key chain! They’re in my bathroom by the sink.” Sweet. Innocent. Casually telling me this. After watching me freak out ALL DAY LONG. But we aren’t home, so I can’t confirm her story.
As soon as we get home I tell her to grab my keys. She comes strolling down the stairs, casually swinging them around her finger.
Kids are jerks, man.