Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies

Sometimes as a parent it is hard to remember to listen first and judge later-- especially when it comes to parenting a two-year-old that equates pinching with signs of affection. Yes, for the past few weeks, she has taken to pinching and slapping those she loves most-- thus making my arms all splotchy and my house a noisy household of tattletale.

"MAWWWM!!!" weeps the ever melodramatic half-cry/half fainting scream of my 7-year-old. "Nikki pinched me." collapse, fall on the floor, cover face and cry like you just lost the Oscar.

Instinctively, I wanted to shake her senseless. I mean get a grip. She's two-years-old and Maggie Moo has been torturing her since she was a baby. The child probably thinks being held down and tickled for a half-hour straight is how you're supposed to say "Good Morning."

I didn't push the injured drama queen for crying so loudly I needed three ibuprofens. No, I talked to Nikki.

"I like her," was all she said and she didn't understand why she should say she was sorry for liking her with a pinch. Yes, my dear readers this is going to take time and a lot of patience-- and bottles of Advil and Martini and Rossi.

So you'd think I'd listen to dear Nikki, knowing she thinks a little differently than the rest of us, but no.

The other day I thought I'd treat the kids to a museum trip, and as we headed from Paradise down the Skyway (I kid you not I live in Paradise and to get there you have to take "Skyway"-- cracks me up every morning).

So we are driving away from Paradise and into the blazing hot dungeons of "the valley" when Nikki rolls down her window. Fighting commences. Headache creeps up (it's what I get for turning my back on Paradise I tell you). And pink flip flop flies out the window.

"MAAAWMMM!!! Nikki THREW her flip-flop out the window!!!!" Maggie yelled.

Now ladies and gentlemen this is THE flip flop. It's the teddy bear of shoes. She even sleeps with it. Plus, it is the ONLY shoe she will wear.

"Oh that's too bad," I said. "Why did you do that?"

sobs. "My fip-fop. My fip-fop," she cried. "Mommy get it. Get fip fop."

"Well why did you throw it out the window?" I asked. "If you really loved it, you wouldn't have thrown it out the window. I'm sorry, but you are going to have to live with this one. You threw it. You lost it."

More crying.

And some more.

And then I came to my senses. She is two-- why would she throw her prized shoe out the window? Does this sound like something Nikki would do? No. She'd throw her sister's prized possessions out the window, but she wouldn't part with even one Barbie shoe of her own even if it was to the poorest child in the universe who had nothing but a broken cup. No this is my greedy girl.

Suddenly I felt a little bad.

"Nikki what happened?" I asked.

"My fip-fop fy away," she cried.

I turned to look at her sister through the rearview mirror.

"Maggie," I said with a slight irritation in my voice. "What happened? Did Nikki take off her shoe and throw it out the window or--- did the window somehow -- I don't know-- roll down-- on her and her shoe fly off her foot?"

Maggie slouched down in her seat.

We drove around to look for the shoe, but Skyway is a busy road-- lots of people want to get in and out of Paradise. And so the fip-fop has been sucked into the canyon. We are litter-ers.

Nikki is shoe-less and sleeping with her lone flip flop.

And I got a lesson in parental listening. Nikki may be a pincher but she is a greedy pincher, so don't assume the worst.

Maggie might be pinched but she is a 7-year-old pinched kid with time to plan her revenge-- or maybe not. I don't know if I'll ever know what transpired in the back of this car, and at this point, I'm not asking questions.