But are you really?

Hubby:  How did you get this?  Did you get it off the shelf?

Which is, by the way, a shelf high enough that small children cannot reach it, shall we say, unassisted.

Medium Fry:  I fink it waws Smawll Fwry.

Hubby [with highly skeptical look]:  Really?  Are you telling me the truth?

Medium Fry:  I fink it waws Smawll Fwry.

Hubby:  Did she climb on the table to get it?

Medium Fry:  Um....

Hubby:  Did she stand on a chair?

Medium Fry:  Um...Smawll Fwry.

Hubby:  Are you telling me the truth?

Hubby fixes a skeptical, penetrating gaze on Medium Fry, who continues to "um."  I look over at the unfolding drama, and give her a similar look.  She's fidgeting.  And her gaze is waffling between us.  More "ums."  Hubby and I both know this look.

Hubby:  Do you want to tell me the truth?

Medium Fry [wails]:  I don't fink so!


(For the record, she did 'fess up that she had climbed on the table to get the aforementioned high-rise-dwelling toy down.)