Looking at an Easter decoration in pieces on Jake’s floor, then looking at Jake
Me: Did you break this?
Me: Then where’s the other half?
Jake: It fell out of my hands. You mad at me?
Me: I won’t get mad at you as long you always tell me the truth.
Jake: Would you get mad at me for painting a wall?
Me thinking: They don’t have paint. What’s he asking that for?
Jake: Would you get mad at me for coloring the wall?
Me deciding to see where this was going: Yes.
Jake: Oh, ok. I won’t do that again.
Me suddenly searching every wall for Jake’s artwork.