Who do you believe?

When my son was younger, he learned how to cleverly wind my husband into a frenzy. He knew what buttons to push, the information to present, and how to remain believable in the process. I watched, with popcorn, as my husband’s blood pressure steadily rose and his voice squeaked with frustration as my mischievous son played the game. I knew the game. I knew the purpose. And I quietly watched it play out. My sweet husband would react as if the ridiculous scenario my son had created was true. His frustration was real. I managed to hold my laughter until I knew it was time to blow the whistle and let him know it was all a joke. Now, that may sound cruel. However, it is necessary to note that o