Secrets

Crichton plops down next to me during lunch recess. (How I love that all my kids go to the same school and with me. It's a nice and unusual experience.)

"Now I know I who I can't trust!"

"What do you mean?"

"I told J- and M- a secret and they told each other my secret."

"You told them both?"

"I told M-, and then I was going to tell J-, but M- already told him."

"Hm. I see. What was the secret?"

He scrunches his nose and smile frowns and contorts his face in a way that makes moms say silly things like, "Be careful or your face will freeze that way."

"What was it," I asked again, smiling and now very curious.

"Its ... disgusting, I can't tell you."

"You told them. I'm your mom. You can tell me anything."

More funny faces, then slowly, "I put my finger in my butt crack and then smelled it. It smelled like poop."

We looked at each other and laughed.

"If you want to keep your secrets, don't tell anyone."

"Except you."

"Except me."

As I spill his secret across the internet.

If you want your secrets kept, don't tell anyone.