Evidence

"Mommy, don't...come...in...the...kitchen," he instructed me slowly in his best whisper voice, his body standing by my bed, his face so close to mine, it may have been resting on my pillow. "Okay?"

They were busy making my birthday cake while I enjoyed the gift of a nap.

"Okay. How'd you get that chocolate on your face?"

Pause.

"I don't know."