You Oughta Be in Pictures

Last night, as I was making dinner, I hear my youngest child howling for me. I walk into the family room and ask, "What happened?" My youngest was supposed to be cleaning up the mess in that room, and upon my arrival it looked just as bad as it had ten minutes prior. I turn to my child and see tears pouring and arm clutching, followed by a wail of, "I hurt my arm." I lean down to inspect the offending appendage, and nothing appears to be wrong; no redness, no cut, no visible bruising. So I asked, voice full of concern, "What exactly happened to your arm?" Through pathetic sobs my youngest says, "I tired it out doing all this cleaning!" Hiding my smile, I leaned down, kissed my little one's head and said, "Nice try, Sweetie Pie. You are still cleaning up this room." Immediately, the tears stop, and my youngest stomps away from me, declaring in exasperation, "Awww Man!" Little con artist.