And Yet

"Well, hazelblackberry, can you close your ears please. I need to tell Dad a secret."

[My fingers are over my ears but they aren't really "closed" as requested because (a) I am an untrustworthy, traitorous woman; just like the rest of them, and (b) there's no way I'm missing this.]

"Well, Dad, well I'm going to pretend to hazelblackberry that there really isn't a spider in the shed, but there really is."

"Okay, hazelblackberry, you can open your ears now."

[I keep my fingers over my ears.]

Louder: "Open your ears, hazelblackberry!"

"Oh, sorry, I couldn't hear anything with my ears closed."

"Do you like our shed, hazelblackberry?"

"I do like your shed a lot, but sometimes I get spooked because I think there might be spiders in there."

Giggles: "There aren't any spiders in our shed!"

"Are you sure? Because I got the feeling that there might be."

"That's not funny! There aren't any! Well, what if there was one and it jumped on your head?"

"Oh, I'd scream and scream."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't let that spider jump on your head. I'd - I'd - I'd supervise that spider so it didn't jump on your head."