This is just an excerpt from an interrogation/conversation my husband had with our eldest the other day. It went something like this:
Daughter cries out from living room, "Daaaddy, brother kicked me." Hubby and I were on our way downstairs anyway so I continued my path while he began the investigation. I plopped myself down on the floor to put on my shoes, strategically placing myself in full view of the crime scene.
Hubby turns to son:
"Did you kick your sister?"
Turns to daughter:
"Did he kick you?"
"Why is she saying you kicked her?"
"I don't know."
"Why do you think she's saying that?"
"I don't know."
"Why are you saying he kicked you when he's saying he didn't?"
"Because he did."
"Where did he kick you?"
"Right here. On my leg." (points to thigh)
"Look at me, she's saying you kicked her in the leg. What happened right before she said 'ow?' Where were you?"
"I was right here doing this." (points to opposite couch and makes a stepping motion)
"And what do you call what you did there?"
"So did you march on your sister?"
"While you were marching did you make contact with her?"
"What do you mean?"
"Were you doing this?" (husband proceeds to march around the room) "And your knee touched her leg?"
"I think you knew exactly what I was asking you."
"But I didn't kick her. She's saying I kicked her and I didn't."
"But your knee hit her leg and she didn't like that. Even if it was an accident you should have just apologized, but instead it became this big deal. Now go tell your sister sorry for marching on her or kicking her or whatever so we can just go."