"My Body Just Felt Like It"

I was sitting eating lunch with my 23 month old daughter. Her face and hands were plastered with red sauce as she happily devoured a plateful of spaghetti, with carrot sticks on the side. I was enjoying left over grilled chicken and a salad. About half way through lunch I noticed the house was suspiciously quiet. My middle child, who just turned five, refrained from joining us for lunch stating he was not yet hungry. The three of us normally eat our midday meal together but on occasion my son just isn’t hungry. No big deal, I just whip him up a plate later.

Today, however, instead of playing with toys or talking to us as we ate, he managed to disappear, undetected. I called for him and a minute later he materialized before me, saying “Mama, someone, NOT me, wrote with marker upstairs. NOT me, I don’t know who it was.” Obviously this adamant denial about an occurrence I knew nothing about triggered some major alarms in my head. “What happened?”, I asked. “Someone, I don’t know who, but it wasn’t me, wrote with marker upstairs. It was NOT me.” More alarms began to sound. I must admit that this statement had me somewhat confused. My kids rarely intentionally destroy the house, or any sort of property for that matter. Of course they have many times but it’s usually accidental. Their preferred form of misbehavior is to fight with each other. I am constantly working with them on name calling and physically hurting one another. But deliberately ruining an item then outright lying about it is not typical for them. Still, I was pretty convinced he was guilty of the crime.

“Where did you see the marker?” At this point he actually handed me a marker, a black Sharpie (oh, great) that he’d been holding behind his back. “Here.” He plopped it in my hand. “Is this the same one the person used to draw?” I asked. “Yes.” Now I am convinced of his guilt. “And exactly where did they draw?” He shifted uneasily but I gave him the mom glare with a slight tilt of my head indicating I was not messing around and he better answer me now, thank you very much! “Um, um…” He stalled. I tilted my head further. “Um, on the mattress and on the bathroom floor.” I leaned down and looked at him directly in his eyes. “You did it, didn’t you?” I asked. His better judgment finally emerged and he confessed.

I exhaled loudly and deeply but surprisingly didn’t get upset. I was more focused on the fact that I wanted to keep eating so I told my son to wait and show me the markings after the meal. He sat on the floor behind me. A few minutes later I looked over at him. He had a most peculiar look on his face, as though he were staring off into space, deep in thought. “What are you thinking about?” I asked. “Nothing.” He replied and grinned, having been caught thinking this secret thoughts. “Are you thinking about how you’re going to be in trouble?” I inquired. “No”, he said, “I’m not getting in trouble.” This answer caught me off guard. I thought for sure he was busy running all the possible scenarios of discipline through his head. “Oh, you’re not?” I asked curiously. “Are you sure about that? Did you do something naughty?” The grin faded from his face and he replied, “Yes.” He looked very sheepish now. “And when you are naughty you are disciplined, right?” His head lowered, “Yes” he whisperd.

I completed my lunch, cleared the table and cleaned up my messy daughter. My son raised his head and I saw huge tears in the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill over. “Mama”, he croaked, “My stomach feels scared.” I quickly stifled a giggle at his expression and said, “Well, yes, that happens when we know we are in trouble. Let’s go upstairs now and you can show me what you did.”

We walked into the bedroom. He pointed out the squiggles he drew on the mattress. It wasn’t very bad, hardly noticeable. “Ok” I said evenly, “Now show me the bathroom floor.” The door to the bathroom was pulled shut. He opened it and looked down. Three dark circles were drawn in the middle of the floor. “Why did you do this?” I asked, incredulous. He started to cry then shrugged and said “My body just felt like it.”

Again I forcefully refrained from smiling and instead dealt with the issue. He had to clean up the marker, all by himself (yes, it was hard work for him, but that was the point) then he was further disciplined for lying to me. I made a clear distinction between the two. He had two separate punishments for two separate acts. After completing his discipline he was back to his normal sweet self within a matter of minutes.

I understand the kid though, it is hard to fight tempting urges when the body just feels like it, but acting on these urges does come with consequences, for all of us.