The devil made me do it.

Several years ago, when I started my business, I thought I was being cutesy with Valentine’s Day and bought a box of little plush devils.  They never sold, so I just had a box of Satan in my house. 

When Miss Fred was about 3 years old, she came across the devils and asked if she could have one.  There wasn’t any reason why she couldn’t.  I mean, except that they were devils, but they were just sitting there, so she may as well enjoy them.

She carried that devil everywhere for awhile.  She couldn’t say devil. . . it was more like “debil”, but if she had the little red guy with horns in her hand, people generally knew what she was talking about.

One day, during that time, my best friend from college and I made plans to take the girls to the zoo.  And, so we piled into the car and headed out.  When we pulled into the parking lot, my friend’s daughter started crying and Miss Fred immediately said, “I didn’t do it!”. . . which, in case you’re not aware, means, “I did it, but I don’t want you to punish me!”.  So, I sternly warned her about lying.

To which she replied, “The devil made me do it!”.

I’ll never forget the look on my best friend’s face when she said it.  She looked absolutely horrified that my 3 year old niece just blamed her poor behavior on the devil.

I have to admit, I was temporarily in a bit of shock myself. . . until I realized she had the little stuffed devil in her hand and was referring to it, and not THE devil. 

I was laughing so hard by that time, that I couldn’t effectively explain what was happening.  I really thought she might stop being my friend that day.  When I finally calmed down enough to talk, we both laughed. . . but for as long as I live, I will never forget the sound of that wee voice speaking the words, “The devil made me do it!”. . . or the look on my best friend’s face.