Outsmarted, Outwitted

At some point in a lawyer's career, she will be outsmarted, outwitted, generally, out-lawyered. It has happened to me. And, on those (exceedingly) rare occasions where I have been truly outsmarted, outwitted and out-lawyered, I give credit where it's due. I'll read the judge's opinion, shake my head, and shake off the loss. If it's a well-deserved loss, I'll have learned something, and I won't make the same mistake again.

Today, I was outsmarted and outwitted--not out-lawyered. Because my opposition today wasn't a seasoned litigator or an over-driven newbie. Today, my opposition was my own flesh and blood. They outsmarted me. They outwitted me. They pulled the sibling card, and as an only child, I don't know whether to ground them, spank them, or reward their teamwork.

GiGi, adorable sweet little GiGi, has a sweet tooth. It's what keeps her so sweet. She also has the charmingly adorable little habit of chewing up food and spitting it out once the texture is just "so," or when something better is presented. Chewing hamburger when mom sets down a bowl of chips? Just spit it out and dig into to the crispies!

Today after naps, I left RJ and GiGi downstairs (alone--I deserve what they dish out) while I went upstairs to finish the adorable dress that I've started sewing for GiGi. (I'm lying. I was upstairs cleaning cat barf, but I aspire to do something more noble and creative.)  GiGi found jelly beans in the pantry. And, because her adorable little thumbs haven't quite mastered twist-ties yet, her brother opened them for her.

It wasn't until after supper when I heard the two little darlings giggling together on the couch that I investigated. "That's so cute! They're finally playing together!" My mommy-sense was twittering; my heart was aglow.

Jelly beans. Everywhere. Chewed up. Ground in. My shag carpet, once monochromatic reeked of 1974--multi-colored.

"Mom," RJ told me as I verbally exploded, "GiGi wanted them! She asked me for them!"

Outsmarted. Outwitted. Sibling-ed. I don't know whether to punish them or be thankful that they were getting along. Of course, as with any well-deserved loss, I've learned something. Jelly beans go up two shelves higher.

To my children who will someday read this, Congratulations. You've left mommy nearly speechless (after much, much yelling--I'm sorry for the yelling).  Thank  your lucky stars that we bought that new carpet steamer this morning. Chew your food. Swallow it. And, keep up the sibling power. You're already proving to be allies in this world. And for that, I'm grateful.