And then I poked him in the eye

I love how asking a four-year-old a direct question -- when you KNOW they've done wrong -- never gets a straight answer. Instead their voice rises to levels of earnestness brought on only by remorse (at being caught, I'm sure) and the resulting "explanation" is like something out of a drug-induced dream sequence. I'm convinced that when Vincent "explains" why Dominic is crying, he's hoping I'll get bored halfway through his soliloquy and drop the inquisition.

The latest answer, after I heard a piercing scream from the boys' room and found Dominic clutching his eye:

"Well, we were playing dump trucks, and I was the dump truck, but then we got out real dump trucks and I said, 'Dommie, do you want to play real dump trucks?' and Dommie said 'Yea!' so I got out our dump trucks and then he dumped out EVERYTHING from the drawer and I said, 'Dommie, do you want some chocolate chips?' and he said, 'Yea!' and so I went to get us chocolate chips, and we filled up our dump trucks with them and I said, 'Dommie, do you want some marshmallows?' and he said, 'Yea!' but we were out of marshmallows and then we knocked over the chair and then we decided not to play dump trucks anymore because Dommie wanted more chocolate chips, and then he got out the eggs and ripped off the top and I said, 'No Dommie! Mommy will be so mad!' and he said, 'Yea!' and then we went back into my room and started playing dump trucks again. And then I poked him in the eye."