As a parent I have been certified, licensed, and declared by proclamation of 2 birth cerificates as a Crime Scene Investigator. I have 5 years of extensive training consisting of interragation skills, evidence gatherer, and 24 hours of non-stop field work. In the (my) Family Court, my testimony is validated by evidence of gray hair, bags under my eyes, and jaw damage due to constant clenching. I always solve my  cases and I am a respected employee at my job.

Let me explain...

When my 2 year old gets into trouble or gets hurt, I can take it to the bank that her brother is going to be blamed for it. He can be in more places at one time than any other person I know. Pain can be inflicted upon her while he is at school and he will still get the blame. Most of the time she is up to something that she knows she's not suppose to be doing and when she gets hurt in the process of committing a crime, she has found a way to divert my attention off of the crime scene and onto the fact that I should be angry at her brother instead. She's a smart little cookie. Very devious. Very charming. Wonder who she gets that from?

Her brother is going to be in the debate club when he gets in high school. He will grovel and fabricate a concoction of excuses to bail himself out of trouble. He can come up with some interesting stories.
For example, yesterday the two were playing in his room when the 2 year old started crying. I stomp to his room for the millionth time in one day. She's sitting on the floor crying, holding her head, and blubbering, "Bubba did it".

I immediately check out the scene to gather information.While she is on the floor crying, he is above her on the bed presenting the "deer in the headlights" look. Next to him is a small Lightening McQueen car that is missing 2 of its wheels. I put 2 and 2 together and come up with the conclusion that amid all the other toys in the floor, McQueen is the desired treasure. (Don't know why. From my viewpoint, he'd seen better days.)

Then I asked the question that started a mini-series of dramatic acts.

"WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Well she took my car away from me and then bumped my head."-Brother

"Bubba did it."-Sister

The question is repeated along with the stink-eye and hands on hips. (My interragation pose)

"Well, she crawled up here and tried to bite me and I pushed her and she hit her head."-Brother

"Bubba did it."-Sister

So then I threaten for the truth by telling him that I know when he's lying and if he knows what is best for him, he should tell the truth.

So then comes the truth. As an investigator, I have to piece the confession together and draw up a conclusion.

"Well she took McQueen from me when I was playing with it on the floor then she hit me in the head. And, and, and then my teeth accidentally bited her on her head. And, and, and she said that she wasn't my best-friend and that she didn't like me. My heart is broken. I'm so sad". (Cue the fake tears)

Crime solved.

As he was watching his movie, he had a sudden desire to hear her piercing scream. He takes the trash-bound car away from her, she wops him for it, he bites her, she cries, he pretends to be innocent, I interrogate, the truth comes out (in a way), I scold them both, McQueen goes in the trash, and I go back to my duties as chef.

Peace is once again restored. For now....