Pleading guilty or not guilty ?!

Welcome to the latest episode of "Things My Son Thinks I Broke," where the situations are tiny but the reactions are massive! My theory is that whenever A has a free day, he must create some miniature-sized drama to ruin the day, and I am, of course, the unsuspecting co-star. This particular Saturday was supposed to be a fun day—no sports for the first time in eight months, a beautiful sunny winter day, and a road trip with a packed lunch and snacks! What could possibly go wrong?

PC:Google image

Turns out, me trying to get ready is what goes wrong. I get ready and come out to see that G was giving A a serious dressing-down. This was my first sign of trouble since arguments are usually my territory. I quickly discovered the crime: apparently, the Eiffel Tower was broken. Not the real one, mind you, but a cardboard replica A had built five years ago. He was furious, and I, in a moment of maternal brilliance, decided to lie. "I didn't break it," I said, " although it was my fault." I continued.

That's all it took. 

A's fury, which had been simmering, erupted. "How irresponsible you are!" he yelled, "You should be banned from the house!"

I tried to explain, but he was having none of it. "No! I just need an apology!" he demanded.

I stood my ground, refusing to apologise because I didn't personally commit the crime. "I didn't break it this time!" I insisted. "The Christmas lights did it! Their weight pulled the tower down!"

A, a true legal scholar in the making, countered, "Whose fault was it that the lights were up there? You! Now apologise to me!" He was yelling and trying to fix the cardboard tower simultaneously. "We can fix it later!" I pleaded, "Can we just go?"

"No!" he yelled, tears of anger welling up, "You have to apologise now!"

An hour and a few negotiations later, we finally reached a truce. I wish I could say that was the end of it.

The Airbus Confession: A Negotiation of Blame

A few days later, on our way home from tennis, A and I were laughing about the earlier incident. I saw an opportunity. "A," I said, "If you promise not to react like that and ruin our day, I'll tell you something."

"What did you break this time?" he asked, not missing a beat. "Another squirrel? The Eiffel Tower again?"

"Nope," I said, "it's something else, but you have to promise you'll be wise this time."

What followed was a masterful negotiation of blame. I wouldn't tell him what I'd broken until he promised not to get mad. He wouldn't promise until he knew the severity of the crime. Back and forth we went, with him guessing wildly.  "Did you break -  "The guitar? or The flowers? or The Bumblebee transformer?"

Finally, I got him to repeat the sacred promise: "Ma, I will not blame you, I will not rage, I will say it's okay, it's not a big deal, let's fix it." He laughed the whole way home, thinking it was a huge joke.

When we got inside, he demanded that I show him the damage. "I didn't break it personally," I confessed, "I only witnessed it break down." He, an astute detective, pointed out that I was the only one in the room.

Finally, I showed him: the big aeroplane had a broken tail. "Remember," I said, "no blame game. We are all wise people here."

"I never promised!" he said, but luckily, the damage was minimal, and he fixed it in a few minutes without a single outburst.

Later that night at dinner, I pulled his leg "A, I'm so proud of your reaction today. You are truely a wiseman"

He just looked at me with a perfectly straight face and said, "Ma, stop annoying me!!" 

PS: Read my other post on Caught in the act to get more info on the squirrel incident

PS: I did break the aeroplane while I was vacuuming (I was only trying to be helpful)