Mommy, these pants can’t fit me anymore because they grew smaller.

Such was the statement from my dear three-year-old, Annalise, just yesterday. In the mind of my young observer, who needs a little training in the Scientific Method, there must be something wrong with those pants, because the problem was certainly not her own growing legs. I marveled that she simply received this notion without any thought of personal responsibility.

No, honey. You’re just getting bigger. You’re growing now. You know you’re a big three-year-old…

[a little impatient now] Mommy, the pants grew smaller.

Perhaps she gleaned this manner of deduction from the adults (not me though) that go about blaming others for the cause of their own bad judgment:

11He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” 12The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” (Genesis 3:11-12)

Or perhaps she just thought the pants grew smaller. I don’t know; it’s a tough call…