Occasionally, I wish that I had a slightly less clever child

We are in the car. Julia and Evan are playing a 'Freeze and Go' game which involves violently kicking the seats in front of them until Julia yells "stop." She doesn't seem to be yelling "stop" too often. I am tired of asking her to stop kicking me, and my voice is beginning to get that edge which signifies that I am close to losing my temper. I desperately don't want to lose my temper.

Finally, I suggest a different game. "Why don't you sing 'If You're Happy and You Know It' for Evan and have him do lots of silly things?" Julia loves the idea. Soon, the car is filled with the sound of both of my children shouting "hooray!" There is no more kicking. I am clearly a brilliant parent.

And then Julia begins the second verse. "If you're happy and you know it, kick your feet," she croons with glee. My back is once again pummeled.

I know when I've been bested. With good humor, I acknowledge what a good idea the kicking verse was. "And now there will be no more kicking," I tell her. She agrees. There is a short pause while she thinks of another verse. As soon as she starts to sing, I hear the tone of mischief in her voice and know that I am screwed.

"If you're happy and you know it, hop on one foot," Julia sings as her foot shoots out into the back of my seat again. I would kick myself for missing this obvious loophole, but my daughter is already doing it for me.