Dang. Just when I thought I had the whole eyes-behind my head thing down pat, the younger of my two boys pulled a fast one last week, leading me to spend a few quality minutes up close and personal with my hardwood floors.

I’m floored, indeed.

Scrubbing my floors hunched is tough on my knees, but my knee-jerk reaction may not have been so timely had it not been for my older son, who inadvertently saved me from a potentially bigger food-flinging disaster by simply tattling on his sibling.

I was on the phone in the kitchen with my back turned from my boys a mere moment as I scooped myself a bowl of pasta after first serving them.

I was scooping noodles, but I wasn’t using my own noodle.

No sooner had I turned away did my younger mischief-maker begin testing to see if the pasta was al dente. I didn’t see it for myself, but my oldest began to yell: ‘Mamaaa! He’s throwing pastaaaa! MAMAAA!’

Saucy macaronis were flung and tossed about my giggling tot’s high chair, which I witnessed a little too late as I peered over the counter to his direction, horrified.

As I peeked down, I found red splotches in polka dot pattern alignment with our floor, a big ol’ Jackson Pollock pasta masterpiece.

Grabbing cleaning supplies, I quickly got into hands-and-knees mode scrubbing quickly before the food dried into crusty wedged bits, and pondered just how many times this month I’d attacked this very pair of sauce-soaked denim with stain remover.

My mind then drifted to the concept of tattling.

Just what connotes a tattle tale, anyway?

Glancing up at my eldest, he had that sort of triumphant, smug glow about him for catching baby bro in the act.

But the dollops of strewn sauce made me the one red handed.

Tattling. Is it really a bad thing, or is it actually super helpful?

According to Merriam- Webster, a tattler is one who tells an authority figure about something bad or wrong that another child has done.

A tattler is also defined as an informer.

Is that so horrible? I sure appreciate having a backup pair of eyes – no matter how young – to notice things I miss.

Who doesn’t like an added alarm system in the form of a self-satisfied kiddo?

But yet what we so often hear about junior informants is that no one likes a tattletale.

Perhaps the telltale defining difference among those who tell tales is whether their reporting is actually helpful or hurtful.

If a so-called tattler is witnessing something dangerous or unsafe, then he is absolutely in the right to report it.

However, if he is telling for the sheer joy and sole purpose of patting himself on the back and getting the offender into trouble, that’s where the fine line must be more closely examined.

In Pasta Exhibit A, I appreciated my older son elbowing me with alert while my youngest threw elbow macaroni everywhere.

I couldn’t help but wonder whether he was tattling for kudos. It wasn’t long ago that he was at the helm of food flinging himself, with no older sibling to tell the tale.

But in this case, perhaps he was really just giving a play by play of the solo food fight before his eyes.

He can keep the kudos. It helped save my floor from further disarray, and he was right to tell me. It’s not as though he were spinning tales the way my favorite jeans are back spinning in the washer.

I will conclude with the thought that his tattletale heart was in the right place.

Maybe there’s something other than pasta sauce in the genes.

— Michelle Cote is the art director of the Journal Tribune. She enjoys cooking, baking, and living room dance-offs with her husband, two boys and a dog. She can be contacted at mcote@journaltribune.com.