“She’s my friend,” my daughter said with a nod. “She doesn’t cheat.”
My head shot up.
“And some of your friends do?” I asked, thinking at least my six-year-old was on the right side of that conversation.
“Sometimes,” she said. Then she ran out of the room. A pinkballerina streak, while I stayed sitting on an unmade bed ticking through a list of her first grade friends trying to pair them up with cheating. It didn’t help. They all seemed so sweet.