As we were eating dinner the other day, we heard a suspicious slurping sound coming from behind my seven-year-old’s chair. It was accompanied by the jingling of dog collars.
The big guy was doing his best to look casual, looking at the ceiling, eyebrows raised, the hints of a secret smile playing on his face.
“Did you just give your peas to the dogs?” my wife asked.
“Huh? What?” He looked over his shoulder as if she might be talking to someone behind him, then back at her, his face innocent and wide-eyed. “You mean me?”
I had to admire his composure, but he couldn’t maintain it. First he started to smile, then a nervous laugh snuck out, then he collapsed into his chair, laughing.
I refrained from pointing out that the whole “you must be talking to someone behind me” approach works much better when there is, in fact, someone behind you.
There are, after all, some lessons that the kids should learn on their own.