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Tell Me Lies, Mommy! Tell Me Sweet Little Lies!
I am not a fan of being completely honest and transparent with my children about everything, all of the time. While I’m aware that my propensity to fill them with half-truths (and occasionally full-on lies) will probably warp and scar them for life, I’m willing to take this gamble. Four year olds do not need to know the graphic nitty gritty about exactly how babies are made. Two year olds do not need to hear all the reasons why Mommy is plunging a knife repeatedly into a voodoo doll that looks like Daddy.
Nay. Children like to be lied to, and I’m happy to comply. Most of the time it’s the standard, benign, self-esteem building dreck:
“Wow, you drew that, Pooper? It’s….so…ORIGINAL! It’s an octopus eating your sister? That’s so…inventive!”
“The macaroni necklace you made me in school is the MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I’ve ever had. Thank you! It’s so PRECIOUS, that mommy is going to put it in the back of the sock drawer so it doesn’t get lost.”
Sometimes, the lies are more of a self-preserving sort.
Take today for example…
The kids and I were in the grocery store, buying a 1000 count pack of toilet paper. I was stoked about getting 50 SkyMylz Pointz for the purchase, because this event was likely the highlight of my week. I was waiting for the yappy oldsters in front of me to finish pushing their prune juice, cat food and soda crackers through the cashier, when something on the Candy Rack of Shame caught my eye. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before: Dark Chocolate Coffee Crisp! I had to have it (even though I loathe chocolate with the intensity of a thousand flaming suns) and it was going to be mine.
All mine.
Employing the stealth ninja skills I honed in the workplace, I quickly made the bar sail from the rack to the conveyer, without the action registering in the brains of either of my whining children. 10 minutes later, the kids were buckled into their car seats, and I was on the road again.
As we idled in traffic, my hand slid into the grocery bag, and found my prize.
The Coffee Crisp of unreasonably dark hue, meet Tia.
Bite. Chew. Swallow.
Meh.
It tasted even more like chocolate than usual, which was a total waste of perfectly good, crisp, coffee. Still, I hate wasting “food” so I continued eating, even though a sane person would have tossed it out the window or put it down.
Like drug sniffing dogs, my kids immediately realized they were getting screwed out of something.
“Moooooooooommmmmy! What are yoooooooou eating?? I want some!” whined the eldest.
“Mamma! I wan’ food! Gib me! Gib me! GIB ME!” implored the shrieking baby.
Time for me to employ the Lies for Mommy Self-Perservation tactic!
“You don’t want this, guys. It’s…uh…erm….SHRIMP FLAVORED. Yeah. You hate shrimp.”
Peeking in my rearview, I can see the big kid screwing up her brow.
“No. I like shrimp NOW. I want some of that shrimp you have. Give me some. PUHLEASE!”
Crap. Not working. Must. Divert.
“No, you hate shrimp. When I feed it to you, you spit it out. It also has MUSHROOMS in it. Shrimp and mushrooms. You know you don’t want that.”
“ME WANT! GIB ME!” crowed the baby.
“Yes I do. I love shrimps an’ mushrooms now, Mommy. I’ll show you. Give me some!” insisted the four year old.
Desperate times, desperate measures. Panicking, I cram the remaining 3″ of bar into my mouth.
“Id aw gone. Ha! Ha!” I choke-laughed through the mouth full of Nestle confection. Crumbs fell from my mouth, all over my bust and onto the seat as I victoriously chewed. I had won! I had outsmarted the four and two year olds! Pwned, evil midgets! Pwned!
*Cue soul sucking wailing and crying from the kids in the back.*
Sigh.
Maybe, I just should have said no…
Just maybe I should have shared…
No, no, no.
They have to get used to working for a living, and I might as well train them to survive in a corporate office now. Yeah. That’s it. On the job training!
See? I’m not such a shitty mother after all.
That is awesome, I so need to employ the shrimp-mushroom diversion next time I get myself something at the store. I will be sure to report if it works for my 3 monkeys on crack.
That’s awesome.
I tell Brenna that things she wants “aren’t on sale,” but I think I need a cool excuse when it’s something I already bought. I love the shrimp and mushroom bit.