Oh, You Think You're So Sly, Don't You.

I suppose it's the natural course of parent-child relationships for children to feel compelled to pull the wool over their mother's eyes.

Jacob has been in a phase where he has a pretend pet. He'll walk it in a doll stoller. He'll tuck it in next to him in bed at night. He feeds it at the kitchen table.

Well today, he was cradling a balled up dishtowel in his arms ever so carefully. I first noticed him carrying it to the van when we were on our way to pick up Brendon at the bus stop.

"What's in the towel?"

"Nuffin."

"Is it your pet?"

"Yeah, is my pet."

"Aww, you love your pet."

"Yeeeaaahhh", he says sweetly smiling at me.

After we came home and I was tending to stuff, Jessica declares that Jacob has a juice. Typically I monitor the juice, but instead of making Jake put it away since I figured he was in the middle of drinking it by now, I told him to come into the kitchen to drink it. I walk into the family room and there he is cuddling the balled up dishtowel, no juice in sight.

And then it dawns on this foggy brained mom that I am.....he's been cradling the juice as a way to hide it from me!! The little scam artist.

Another little scam artist is my dear boy, Brendon.

A few days ago I had a major migraine with major nausea. It was a typical migraine, but the nausea took a long time to go away, so I suspected that it was a stomach virus accompanying the migraine.

Yesterday, my mother was visiting and said that Brendon was complaining that his stomach bothered him, he also didn't want dinner last night.

He woke up fine and went to school, no problem.

Jeff was home for the night complaining that he may have what I had, so he went to lay down on the couch. I was making dinner, and in walks Brendon with a pained look on his face.

"I don't feel good, mom. I'm going to go check myself."

He comes up with a 271.

"I'm a 271. That's not good is it."

"No it isn't, but you had a snack with a dose, so I won't correct you."

"Should I go lay down? My stomach is bothering me."

Oh lordy, I hope he doesn't get a full blown version of what I had, I thought to myself.

"Mom, do I still have to clean up?"

"Did your father tell you to clean up?"

"Uh huh."

"You're trying to get out of cleaning up, aren't you?"

"Noooo!!!! I really don't feel good."

"Yeah, right."

Granted, their tactics might work for the short term and they're pretty convincing, but eventually Momma manages to peek her head out of the clouds and catches on.