Scene: I'm in the kitchen peeling potatoes, like anyone would be in the five o'clock hour. There has been a real run of accidental injuries recently: every two minutes, sudden screams from the bedrooms, followed by cries of astonishment and disbelief. And yes, more of the same seems to be coming right down the pike.
Sudden screams offstage. Enter Nelly.
Nelly: Leeeewwis pinched me!
[Enter Lewis]
Me, beginning a prepared speech I had been working over along with the potatoes: There have been way too many accidents in there...et cetera...and you kids need to...et cetera...and so the next person who accidentally anything is gonna get...
Lewis: Excuse me, Mom? I pinched Nelly on purpose.
Me, taken up short: Oh. Why?
Lewis: Because she was kicking me with her knee.
Me: Nelly...?
Nelly, not much abashed, but also not screaming anymore: Because he was pinching me because I was kicking him, because....because....
All of which serves to illustrate that however smart your two-year-old may be, you'd better call a different key witness.
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