No one to blame

It's 8:30 and dark, as we leave a friend's house with the kids. It's been a long day of fun and eating, especially for S, who indulged in all kinds of sweets.
"My tummy hurts," she says. "Take my cookies away so I don't eat them," she tells Josh in a mature voice, handing over her goody bag.
"Tomorrow I'm not going to eat junky food," she promises. Then she tries to find a scapegoat. "Who gave me all this junky food?" she asks.
"It doesn't matter who gave it to you, you ate it, so it's your fault," I said.
"Did myself give me the treats?" she questions.