Today when I picked the little angel up from Toddler High (whee!  Her teacher was back today!  With a new haircut!  A week after her husband died!  We love you, Ms. L.) I noticed that her friends S. and J. were sporting shiny new bite marks on their wrists.  A matched set.  Their mommies were studying their wrists, trying to determine if they had, in fact, just bitten each other.

I was a tad worried.  Remember, the little angel was once a perp.  I marched right into Toddler High and bribed the young afternoon girl to tell me if the little angel had bitten anyone. 

Young Afternoon Girl:  "Oh, no, she's never bitten anyone in this room."

Me:  "Well, she bit Baby M. in Waddler B.  A couple of times."

Young Afternoon Girl: (shocked) "Really?  I can't imagine it."

Me:  "Well, it was personal." (under breath) "The little bastard totally had it coming."

We stopped and picked up my beloved to head to Lowe's to pick up paint, because I, dear readers, am finally going to paint our heinous home office a lovely fog color with shiny white trim.  Then we will put up our fancy new wall sconce.  And then, we will have Zen in Home Office.  Except for the carpet, which Sybil has puked on so many times that I've stopped doing much besides wiping it up with a Kleenex and praying that the money tree will rejuvenate fast enough to pay down our credit card debt so we can re-carpet the damn place before someone has the house condemned.

In the car, I told my beloved about all the biting.  I wondered who had done it.  Then I thought Hey!  She's verbal now!  MAYBE SHE WILL SPILL IT.  The power - it was giddying.

Me:  "So, do you know who did the biting?"

Little Angel:  "I want a cwackwer."

Me:  "Who bit S?"

Little Angel:  "Goldfishie!  I want a goldfishie cwackwer."

Me:  "Did you see anyone bite S. and J.?"

Little Angel:  "Mommy."

Me:  "Huh?"

Little Angel:  (brandishing crumbled Goldfish)  "Mommy did it."