I heard the door to the powder bath shut and little feet scampering away. I knew he was into some mischief and I was ready with my game face to place some blame. He has a fondness for putting things in the toilet and I knew that was on his agenda. As he skidded around the corner he came face to face with me. We had a bit of a stare-down -- me with my hands on my hips and my "what did you do?!" face and him with the look of complete angel innocence.
me: "Jackson, what did you do in that bathroom?!" (asked sternly and with emphasis on "you")
He looked at me quizzically. softly. and replied: "Put the raisin in the trash."
And with that he was off, into the living room to look for his trucks. I looked into the bathroom trash and low and behold was a single shriveled raisin in the bottom of the trashcan. I had jumped to a conclusion, and it was a wrong one at that. Shame on me. My son was as sweet and innocent as could be. Well, this time.