Punk'd

It was a little past 6 o’clock.   Queen B was upstairs fiddling around on Facebook, with the Ladybug playing nearby.   I was downstairs in the laundry room, loading the washer with jeans and tee-shirts.

The Ladybug bounded downs the stair and ran into the laundry room.   With a sense of parental urgency, she called out “Dad! Get your shoes and jacket on!   We’re going out to eat.”     She then disappeared upstairs, presumably to get bundled up for the cold herself.

I finished up the laundry and headed upstairs, where I found the Ladybug already snugly packaged in her new snow jacket, with the Queen B following suit.   As I get grabbed my shoes and jacket, the Queen B asked “Where do you want to go for dinner?”

Chili’s!” shouted the Ladybug.

“Sounds good to me,” I concurred.

The Queen B shrugged her assent as well, whereupon we assembled in the family car and made our way to Chili’s.

As we were driving, I turned to the Queen B.   “I’m kind of surprised you want to go out to dinner when it’s so cold and snowy out.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the Queen B.   “I didn’t suggest going out.”

“But the Ladybug came down stairs and told me we were going out to dinner,” I explained.   “Wasn’t she relaying a message from you?”

No…” the Queen argued back, “the Ladybug went downstairs to see you.   When she came up the stairs she told me to get dressed because we were going out to dinner.   I thought she was relaying a message from you…”

“Wait,” I said, momentarily confused.   “If you didn’t want to go out and I didn’t want to go out, why are going out…?”

The awkward silence that followed was cut short by the sound of maniacal giggling from the car seat behind us.

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