It seems passing the blame is something you learn early in this house hold. Even the cat has got it down to a tee!
Monster child has suddenly grasped the concept. I have some fabulous examples for you. Picture this: sat on my bed post bath, wrapped in a lovely soft froggy towel, he horrendous rumble of a fart (we don’t sugar coat these words in our house, no bottom burps, flumps, whoopsies etc. There isn’t a cute way to describe emitting gas from your anus!). Cue shocked face! Monster child then stands up and points to the bit of the bed he was sat on with his hand over his mouth. “Oh no, what was that? Was that your bottom?” “No!” He pointed in protest at the same spot.
Want another example? Out in the garden on his own, I’m spying from the warmth of the kitchen cuddling a hot cuppa. Monster child proceeds to undo the locks on the garden gate, “excuse me, they aren’t for you to play with” immediately spins round and growls “Toby!” – of course, blame the cat, totally believable that the cat unlocked the garden gate and stealthy snuck back in to get under my feet en route to telling you off.
As you can see, he’s learning – but still has a way to go to get to the believable stage.