sense of direction

Fool me once

The one day I really needed the kids to fall asleep in the car, I lied to them.

I told them we were going to such-and-such place. Which we were. Technically. We really were going there... just not directly. I was planning to take an hour-long meandering detour through country roads so those tired little monsters could get some shut-eye before I had to drop them off with Mom at the barn and go to work.

I had enough time to get them a decent little nap in the car, but not enough time to take them home and let them get some sleep proper, ya know

Things were going fine. I was well into my detour when I had to brake hard. In doing so, I woke Anna up.

She was groggy for a minute, blinking around, but then she started drilling me. She immediately realized we were not going in the correct direction for my stated destination.

I was a bit surprised / annoyed / surprised again that her sense of direction was so honed. I mean, the kid was four at the time—give me a break and just go back to sleep! But no, the gears in her head were spinning—and demanding answers.

I tried to bluff my way through it, but she wasn't having it. She knew that this was not “The” way to the barn from where we had come from. I explained everything to her.

Time to accept that I can't pull a fast one on her anymore. She knows where she's going.