the boy detective solves the case.

so my oldest grandson who is 4, going on 44, is in training for chief inspectorship of scotland yard in the forseeable future.
his mother gave me some used baby items which i intend giving to a friend of mine for her first grandchild.

little grandson, aka sherlock shortypants, spotted one of the items sticking out of the corner of a bag in my kitchen.
he tugged it out and whirled around to face me.

'NANNY! what is THIS?' he demanded.
he could also make a good career as a store detective because i swear i felt as tho' i'd just been caught red handed shoving stolen goods down my pants.
the item in question is one of these
i tried to explain why i had it.

'this is MINE' he asserted. looking at me witheringly as only a 4 year old can.
unspoken:  'how could you stoop so low as to steal from your own grandson'.
i explained that now that he's a big boy he doesn't use it anymore.
in fact, i told him, it's for babies.
slightly negative emphasis on the word babies to illustrate their insignificance compared to his superior big boy status.

'WHO are you giving it to?' he wanted to know.
i told him.
judy, the lady i work with.
judy is also the name of his other grandmother with whom he had just spent the previous day.
duh. too late.
it was so obvious i was just making THAT up.
two judy's.
as if.

'WHY are you giving it to her?' the interrogation continued.
i explained that she's got a new grandchild and she might have a use for it.
'how old is she's grandchild?' he further demanded.
(we shall forgive the young detective here for confusing his personal pronouns.)
the line of questioning continued as he held the article, which perhaps should now be referred to as exhibit A, aloft, in front of my face.

'what is the baby? a boy or a girl?'
trick question. intended to catch me on the hop. 
good job i knew that one.
'boy' i replied confidently.
he raised an eyebrow and gestured the item towards me once more.
'why does judy have a boy for a grandchild?"
this one could've been difficult but i made a stab at an answer.
which didn't appear to satisfy.

'does judy know where to put this in the car?'  he continued, picking up the pace of questioning now, perhaps to catch me offguard and force me into breaking down and admitting my duplicity.
i reassured him that if she didn't then i would be able to tell her because i know all about toys having four grandchildren of my own.
he remained sceptical.
'it's NOT a toy.'
he was right.
i squirmed.
'it's a thing.' he corrected.

'you don't look in it like THIS'  he scoffed at me as he held it in front of his face and grimaced by way of demonstration.

'you put it in yours car on the SEAT and you look through your mirror at the BABY, not YOUR face.'

i told him i was aware of how it worked.
he looked doubtful.

'i like this.' he told me. 'i had it when i was borned. i miss it.'
"well yes," i went on with my rebuttal "but you no longer need it and somebody else could use it now."
'i wanted to keep it.' he said.
unspoken: what a theiveing underhanded nanny i truly am.
there may have been a bead or two of sweat on my top lip at this point.

his little sister, aged 2, previously engrossed in playdoughing the soles of her shoes, came over to see what was going down.
like a skilled partner in the good cop/bad cop scenario, looking from the culprit to the righteous she summed up the situation at once and jumped right in.
"Mine!' she yelled.
'NO!' sherlock proclaimed firmly, putting a swift end to her participation.

'you shouldn't take it nanny.'
he reprimanded me slowly with an almost sad shake of the head.
caught red handed.
obviously due to family connections he was going easy on me.
he was more disappointed in me than anything else.

'i didn't. your mommy gave it to me.' i tried to justify.
to wriggle out of it.
two eyebrows up.
then, eyes narrowed, he weighed me up.
no words necessary.
unspoken.
how could you possibly lie about such a thing nanny?
as if his own mother would EVER give away so carelessley such a precious posession of his.
the jig was up.
i'd been found out.
i'd obviously sneaked into his house under the cover of darkness and removed it as he slept.

'never mind' i said thinking i'd defuse the situation by distracting him with the offer of a cookie. 'just take it home if you want it.'

a pause.

'no that's okay. you can have it.' sherlock said, knowing he'd won and i was beaten.
 it was quickly cast aside as he chomped on a  cookie.
' i don't want it any more.'
and he didn't.

'poo-poo head' said his little sister.

she's going to be a politician.
;-)