Fooling a Five-Year-Old

Not. Easy.

Particularly when it's one of my five-year-olds.

It's Sunday morning, and I've made my usual (slow) way back up to the church building proper, coming from the Youth House, where I am a wonderful, supportive wife who attends Hubby's teen Sunday school class.  I'm amazing, I know.  (I also genuinely love these kids.)  I moseyed up the aisle to the pew where I'd stashed my "church bag," full of amusements for small children during the rather-boring-to-them first service.

Aside: I sit in a different location in each service.  (Like you care, but keep reading.  *wink*)  In first service, I sit in the furthest-back pew on the left side of the sanctuary.  This is precisely because I have small children and there is no children's church during first service, which is more traditional.  It's easier to not disrupt the service so much.  If we have to make multiple bathroom trips, well, the ladies' room is right behind us.  During second service, I sit about five pews from the front, on the right.  This pattern sort of developed about a month or so into Hubby's tenure at the church, because I wanted to sit near different people in an effort to get to know folks.  That sort of fell aside when I became friends with the entire row of SU college students who started attending our church when the fall semester began.  When SU is in session, I usually end up sitting right in front of the college gang.  When it isn't...well, Jester is the only local student of our college group, so he and I sit together.  And in second service, I can actually pay attention to the service.  (Novel, I know.)  Small usually finds PeeJay's wife and sits with her.  Large usually sits with a couple of the sophomore girls in the youth group, who just love her to bits.  And Medium almost always sits with Jester.

Now, I told you all that to explain this.

As usual, since SU is on summer break, Jester came up and sat next to me in my chosen pew this morning.  We chatted until the Fries showed up, at which point it became all about them.  Medium is pretty much head-over-heels in five-year-old love with Jester, much to Mitzy's great amusement. The feeling is actually quite mutual; Jester absolutely adores my girls (which just makes me like him even more).

Small Fry gave Jester a lean while he hugged her, and then she demanded impertinently, "Whewre's Mitzy?"

I reminded her that Mitzy had to go home (Mitzy had stayed with us for a couple of days last week, for some school stuff after the close of the semester).  Small's little mouth turned down in a slight frown, and then she showed Jester the little bag she clutched in her hand.

Which, as it turned out, held m&ms.

She gave one to Jester.

Then I think she ate one herself.

Then she handed an orange m&m to Jester.  "Give dis to Mitzy," she ordered.

Jester nodded soberly and set the m&m on the lid of his travel coffee mug.

Two minutes later, when Small's back was turned, he leaned down and snagged the m&m off his cup and popped it in his mouth.

"So glad you sent that to Mitzy," I remarked drolly.

"She really liked it," he said with a grin.

I think the chocolate was still melting when Small whipped back around.  "Did you give dat canny to Mitzy?"

Jester did an admirable job of stopping the choking laughter I could see coming up.  "Yes, I did."

Small fixed him with a gimlet eye.

"I mailed it to her.  I put a stamp on it and dropped it in the mailbox."

Small seemed satisfied.

Now, if he'd tried that on Medium Fry, who remembers everything and sees more than you want or expect, not even the opportune arrival of Gramma--my parents had decided to come to our church this morning; surprise!--would have dissuaded her.

I think he was very, very lucky.