Last night I sat in the bathroom with my mother-in-law while James and his cousin played in the tub. All of the sudden, without a split-second of warning, James picked up a rubber fish and used it to shoot a fat stream of soapy water right into my mother-in-law's eye.
She squealed, she jumped, and she reacted to the situation with the typical drama-level of a Lawson female--high.
As soon as her face was dry and her eyes were desoaped, she turned to me and asked, in all seriousness, "Amy. Did you do that to me?"
I kind of snickered and replied, "Do you really think I would randomly spray soapy water into my mother-in-law's eye?"
She nodded and said, "Yes."
Well, it's good to know I'm well regarded around the Lawson house.
The next time a child farts at the Sunday dinner table, I'm planning to claim the gas as my own. The next time a grandchild stuffs their spinach under a chair pad, I'm going offer up a satisfied nod, point to my chest, and mouth the words: it was me. And the next time my mother-in-law discovers a crayon-drawn mural on her living room wall, I'm going to ask for permission to sign my work.
You know, just to maintain my reputation.
(I love you, Meredith!)