“Who opened the maple syrup?”
Long silence as both children pretend to be hard of hearing.
I snag Wallace as he cruises through the kitchen, kneel down and look into his eyes (as all those experts recommend), “Wallace, please tell me what happened to the maple syrup.”
More silence coupled with darting brown eyes.
I have a hunch but stay silent and prepare for the excuses about to come my way.
“…okay, fine. I drank it. …but look at what a great job I did telling the truth!”
Does this stuff happen at your house?