The Prank

We have a couple of jokesters in our home.

Sprite is the prank, ‘I gotcha’ type.

Tempest is the ‘I’ll do something funny or tell a funny joke a million times’ style.

Take a wild guess which style lands a consequence.

Yep, the prank style.

Let me explain, we aren’t prank haters, we just prefer them when it’s not bedtime and mixed with poor attitudes and disobedience.

I know – killjoys.

Anyway, Banshee comes out of the bed to use the restroom and claims there is something white on the toilet seat.

*inquisitive looks from Brent and myself*

He gets up to take a look.

He discovers lotion spread onto the toilet seat.

And, bonus, everyone claims they didn’t do it.

Fantastic.

Let the interrogation begin.

But everyone holds tight to their lack of involvement.

Tempest sobs because she didn’t do it and no one believes her.

Sprite begins complaining that we always think she’s lying and we also never believe her.

*eye roll*

We instruct Sprite to clean the toilet seat.

With much reluctance and attitude, she does so.

Prior to our bedtime, Brent and I were unable to get a confession.

And, our conversation as we’re falling asleep is having a firm belief Sprite did it, but because we didn’t find it funny, she wouldn’t confess.

So, we wake up the next morning with consequences in place to encourage a confession.

No television and chin-up continuous chores until someone confesses.

But, I became frustrated and impatient.

I’m standing in the hallway with eyes on Sprite in the main bathroom, and Tempest in the living room.

“Ok, I’m over it. I’m gonna ask who did it and if no one confesses, I am going to add a consequence with each ask.”

They both stare at me.

“Who did it?”

They both replied they had nothing to do with it.

“Ok, you will have to clean the bathroom on your own.” (they daily divide and conquer the bathroom chores)

“Who did it?”

*silence*

“Ok, now you will be cleaning my bathroom.”

This is when Sprite began shifting her facial expression.

Finally, something concrete.

“Sprite, I already know you did it. So, why not go ahead and admit.”

She looks at me.

“Here’s what I think. I think you put the lotion on the toilet seat as a prank, but since we didn’t find it funny you were afraid to admit you did it. Correct?”

*Downcast face*

“Yeah.”

“Now what consequence would mommy and daddy give you had you confessed when we asked?”

“Clean up the lotion.” She said begrudgingly.

“Exactly! Then we would be done with all of this. But, now we have to consequence and discuss the lying.”

Y’all.

*frustrated stare*

This is constant.

This is our thorn.

Lying.

In our discussions with Sprite about the why for the lying, it comes down to shame and disappointment laced in the confession.

It’s so difficult.

We tell her we love her, even when she makes mistakes.

That our love isn’t based on how good or bad she is.

Y’all.

Parenting is hard.

Matters of the heart are hard.

It’s just hard sometimes.