Tonight it was Bridget. Yesterday she told me that she'd been walking home from school and dropped her homework in the snow. Now it was all wet and she couldn't do it. Fine. Whatever. Explain it to your teacher and I'm sure she'll understand. But she tried to give me the same explanation today for why she didn't do her homework. But there's a problem. She's too smart to drop her homework in the snow two days in a row. She's just making this up, and I know it.
Reagan looked on, shaking his head. He knows from experience that mom's bullshit detector is fine tuned. I could almost hear him, in his head, willing her to just come clean.
I wonder why they lie to me. I always know. And they usually end up being in more trouble than they would have been if they'd just told me the truth. But she's not the first to lie to me, and she won't be the last. I pulled Bridget's homework, dry and ready to be done, out of her backpack. She's less than happy with me right now. But I don't have "stupid" tattooed on my forehead. I've been around a while, and I'm smarter than she is, at least for now. They'd all be better off if they realized that.
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