I can still hear it. At least, the echo of it. I heard it so much my entire childhood that no amount of time will erase it.
I'm talking about the perfect way to deny anything. The unspoken alibi.
Growing up with lots of siblings no one EVER admitted responsibility when something went wrong. No one ever took the blame. Unless there was solid evidence you couldn't pin a crime on anyone without reasonable doubt.
Most of the time all evidence was circumstantial, but for my parents that was enough. They would convict without the right to a fair trial. They were the judge and the jury and you did not have the right to an attorney or the right to remain silent.
As soon as my dad would ask who did something my brothers would both yell the same answer. It was their go-to defense. NOT ME! Then he would say he didn't ask who didn't do it.
It was probably them anyway. Who else was going to leave huge globs of jelly in the peanut butter? The most likely suspects were any and all boys under the age of ten.
I just asked Alana who did something. I know it was her. Ava is only eight months old. But she took a lesson from her uncles. NOT ME!
Somebody must've told her that the best defense is a good offense. Or deny, deny, deny works everytime.
I don't know if that will be her tactic everytime, but I hope not.