The Freedom of a Confession
I stood on the kitchen chair to reach the top of the hutch only to find more than dust. The hidden section was littered with crumpled-up gum wrappers, and I knew exactly how they got there. No doubt my daughter thought she found a way to get past the gum-chewing police. She had braces and knew she wasn’t supposed to chew gum, but thought she could be a sneaky Pete. I wanted to march up to her bedroom and demand a confession, but instead, I opted for a more subtle approach of stashing all the wrappers in the middle of her…