After church Sunday we hustled over to Jose’s for some salsa and fajitas. Just as the Jeep rolled to a stop and I was imagining my first dip with a chip, Ladybug said quietly from the back: “I kind of told a lie at church today.”
Her father and I looked over at each other, curious.
“Oh you did,” I said. “Well, what exactly did you say?” I had no idea what to expect, considering the depths of the drama lately.
“I told them I was adopted,” she admitted.
I truly had to bite my lip; I was about to bust up. “Who did you say that to?” I questioned further.
“Everybody,” she said, meaning three teachers and a large room full of Sunday School kids.
When I pried more deeply into her motivation, she told me: “I kind of like the idea of being left on somebody’s doorstep.”
It was really so cute and sweet, John and I couldn’t stop smiling.
Fast forward to later that day: she was neither cute nor sweet as she sassed me up one side of her bedroom and down the other. I like to blame it on six. Either way, she might just get her little fantasy.