Uh oh.
"Are those ours?" I asked. After all, I have an A-plus grasp of our home's contents; Just ask Anthony, who receives an unwanted refrigerator inventory every time he opens its door.
So, Roman tried to pull one over on me ("Yeah, I got them in the upstairs closet," he said. Uh, is there a gift shop up there I'm not aware of?), but thankfully he's inherited my inability to pull off a whopper.
Oh, and I watch a lot of Law & Order so I'm a pretty skilled interrogator.
Fast forward through my "so very disappointed" speech, his crying and my secret crying, and we returned to pre-school where the wonderful Mrs. Wilson - trying to eat her own lunch - accepted them graciously, told Roman she still loves him, assured me privately that he's not the first marble thief (they are super cool), then sent us away on Spring Break.
So, a D-minus day for parenting, but I do think his punishment - returning to the scene of the crime - worked for now. I mean...does this look like the face of a felon?!
(Yes.)
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