It was a quiet winter afternoon, just like today. I was 6 or 7 at that time and was playing in our front yard. My sister was playing in the kitchen, she was role-playing as mom!
It's her favorite thing to do when we are left alone in the house, after school when my mom and dad go to their workplace. Sometimes she also made small snacks too.
Suddenly, I heard a crashing sound, a sound of breaking ceramic. Even at that age, I knew to not touch Mom's favorite ceramic wear. We were only allowed to use the plastic ones when no one was at home. By the sound, I knew what happened.
I rushed to the kitchen. My sister was collecting all the broken pieces of the bowl from the floor.
She was screaming, 'Bury the evidence'. But the irony is I didn't know what the word evidence means and I stood there hopelessly, doing nothing. She got so angry, she stood up and slapped me.
It came to my mind. Without knowing the meaning of the word, I helped her collect all the pieces in a plastic bag to throw it out or bury, literally. So our mom wouldn't notice a missing bowl.
What a fool we were!
The minute she got home, she noticed some small pieces on the kitchen floor as a prove of our mistake. She was not as mad as I thought she would be. But she got mad knowing we tried to hide it rather than confessing.
.
It was not a crime. But probably it was the first I learned how to get out of one!
.
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