My Brain Made Me Do It

Yesterday, after I put the girls to bed, Claire comes running down the stairs “Mom! I have a secret to tell you!!” 

I’m tempted to use one of my normal “WHY IN THE WORLD ARE YOU OUT OF BED AGAIN” lines, but truthfully I was a little curious about the secret. 

“What is it, Claire?”

“Grace told me that when you tell her she can’t play on her tablet, she goes upstairs and does it anyway. And when you tell her to get her shoes on, she doesn’t do it on purpose. And when you tell her to pick up her room, she just plays. She told me not to tell you. But I did.” 

I walk Claire back upstairs to her bedroom and calmly say to Grace “We’ll be talking about all of that tomorrow.”

Oh man, did that send a shiver of fear up her spine. Keep in mind, this little girl despises being in trouble. If there’s even a hint that she’s done something wrong or that someone is mad at her, big tears well up in her eyes. 

“Mom, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!” 

I told her I appreciated the apology but that we’d still be talking about it in the morning. 

Fast forward to today. 

I run through my speech about listening and trust and what happens when you lose my trust. Boring parent stuff. 

She appears to be half listening, half preparing her own speech when she says, in all seriousness: 

Grace: Mom, do you remember how I told you my brain has a robot in it? 

Me: Ummm, yes? 

Grace: Well, my brain told me to do it and it’s evil. It tells me to do all kinds of things. I’m sorry, Mom. But it was my brain. 

……

Dang. I had no idea where to go from there. I mean, the kid was right. 

Point, Grace.