My seven-year-old son came in from playing outside in the woods. He had a look on his face that said, "I was definitely up to something." I decided to find out what.
"You look a little guilty. What did you do?"
I guess that was the answer I expected.
Then he turned around. His bottom was a muddy mess.
"Um, if you did nothing, why are your pants all muddy?"
"I don't know."
"Okay, let me take a look at you." I went to check out his pants, and noticed that he winced when I touched his back. I lifted up the back of his shirt. His entire back was dirty and scraped.
"How did you do this?"
"I don't remember."
"You can't remember falling down and scraping yourself?"
Then I gave him one of my mean mommy looks.
The truth came out. He was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, someplace where he wasn't supposed to be.
I knew his case of amnesia was one of those fake jobs.