A thing that was something

I’m always amazed at the ways Z gets out of things she doesn’t want to tell / do / share etc.

Today when she got off the school bus, she was clutching something in her hand and wouldn’t open her fist even though she had trouble handling her bag.

I asked her what she was hiding and after thinking for a few seconds, this is the response I got:

“It’s a thing that’s something.”

Needless to say, I let her keep her thing that was something and instead carried her school back for her.

After all, what else could one do in the face of such a perfect technically correct answer.

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