Mack ran up from the basement with a terrified look on his face this evening.  The minute he found me a string of words began to flow from his face so quickly that I had difficulty keeping up with what he was trying to convey.

Mack- (Nervous) ”Dad I wanted to tell you the truth because I know that it’s always best to tell the truth- so I wanted to be honest and tell you the truth because that’s what people should always do- they should tell the truth because then they don’t really get punished for something that was completely a mistake and not their fault to begin with- so it’s always best to just tell your mom or dad what happened so they won’t be mad and yell, or kill you or something- because you wouldn’t kill me if I told you the truth, right Dad?” (Nothing good has ever come from a conversation which started like this)

Dad- (Calm) “What did you do Mack?”

Mack- (Calm) “I was bouncing a hard rubber ball in the basement and I broke a window” (pause for effect)

Mack- (Less than calm bordering on hysterical) “But I didn’t do it on purpose and it broke- and glass- and a hole- and cold air and…” (several minutes of sobbing, whimpering and aquatic effects followed) 

“sob, sob, gasp, sob, sob, gasp, gasp, slobber, sob, sob, sob, sniffffffffff, snort, tears, tears, tears” (no more tears but corresponding sound effects providing the illusion of tears)

Dad- (Still calm, but obviously annoyed) “Mack, suck up the tears- I’m not buying it, show me what you did and help me fix it.”

Mack- (Miraculously calm once more) “Oh, okay Dad- follow me.”

Sure enough, Mack had managed to take a hard rubber ball the size of a quarter and score a direct hit on the only window in our basement.  Just to orient you and illustrate the improbability of such an event occurring- our basement is about 900 square feet.  The only object in our basement that could possibly be damaged by a hard rubber ball is a 24 X 9 inch, single pane, recessed window which sits approximately 7 feet off the ground.  Add the fact that today is the single coldest day of the year and you tell me the odds of such an accident taking place?

Just to put you at ease, Mack was not sentenced to death.  I patched the hole, patted him on the back for his courage and then made him clean the basement.  Tomorrow I plan on making him read about a thousand books to repay me for the duct tape used in the repair process.