Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Lies I've told my daughter in the past 24 hours

She said: YEEEEEEEE! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!
I said: Sophie, if we don't brush your hair, it will get so tangled that birds will come build their nests in it.

She said: I HATE YOU!!!!
I said: Well--then I guess we'd better go find you a new mommy. Let's get in the car. (She's sure to be in therapy for that one.)

She said: Is Santa real or pretend?
I said: Real baby.

She said: How do the reindeer fly?
I said: They eat magic oats.

She said: I want to go home!!
I said: This will only take a couple of minutes. (This conversation took place on our way into the UPS store. 40 minutes and $20 smacks later, we were done.)

She said: Cut off the crusts!
I said: The crusts will make you big and strong.

She said: I DON'T WANT TO GO TO BED!
I said: Santa's elves are watching, and they won't bring your Princess Talking Vanity if you don't lay down right now.

I think "good liar" should be part of a mom's job description. My mom told me lies--both white and black, ranging from, "If you keep pouting like that a little bird will come poop on your lip" to "Joseph Smith was a true prophet." The older Sophie gets, the more I seem to lie to her.

If you have kids, do you lie to them? Did your mom lie to you?

Today's best thing about being a mom:
So--we're driving around doing errands with my mom. Soph says to me, "You be an elf. I'll be Soph. You say--have you been a good girl?" So I do. She says, "Yes. Very very good." I say, "Well, I saw you squirting dish soap into Jimmy's water and all over your mom's kitchen floor." She says, "Can I talk to a new one?"

Today's worst thing about being a mom:
Shit--this being Santa thing is EXPENSIVE! I realized today that I forgot stocking stuffers. Sheesh.

13 comments:

MC said...

My mom used to tell my sister that if she didn't behave in restaurants, "the man" would come out of the kitchen and yell at her. One night, she was being a brat, and the chef walked out of the kitchen for a totally unrelated reason. Shut her up quick...

hazel said...

well, there's the whole santa thing. that's a pretty big lie in and of itself. I don't remember any specific lies I told trent, but I'm sure there were plenty. oh I do remember some - I used to tell him that we were out of fruit roll ups or other snacks when either I didn't want him to have more (good mommy) or when I wanted to eat them myself (bad mommy).

I love sophie's "can I talk to a new one?" she's so priceless.

and speaking of priceless, shityeah this santa stuff is expensive.

Katy said...

I don't get the is Santa real or pretend one.... What are you trying to say?

the beige one said...

outside of the usual Santa/Bunny/Tooth Fairy thing, how about that old standby: the (insert pet) went to a farm?

For me, the cat went to the Pan-American Games, and decided to live by himself.

Better than having the Big Sleep explained to me, I s'pose.

Jen said...

I love that Joseph Smith one; that is hysterical!

I don't remeber any huge lies I was told as a kid, just your basic Santa, tooth fairy, easter bunny ones.

lonna said...

My mom used to lie to me all of the time, but not as a young child I don't think. Hers was more that she would promise me something and then tell me that I couldn't have it. For example, I was promised 4 years of college and my parents only paid for 3, and of course they didn't tell me that until the summer between year 3 and 4.

At first I was thinking that we haven't lied to Dermot since he's still so young, but after reading Patrice's comment I realize that we have. We have told him that we are out of something or that there are no more of something when we don't want him to have some more of a type of food. We have also told him that the TV is sleeping since we have an entertainment center with doors.

OMH said...

Hang on MOMS the lies have just begun. Wait until you have teenagers! I would tell my kids someone told me they saw you "smoking" or whatever offense I thought they were doing. And they would come clean! (Like you can hide smoke smell from Moms!)

Some lies are good lies - at least that's what my mother used to tell me. Like "Your hair looks cute" - since you cut your bangs to 1/3 inch and they stick straight out of your head and there is absolutely NOTHING anyone can do about it. It was better for her to lie to me than to have me hide in my room for 3 months while they grow out. And better for me to lie to my daughter after the same incident.

Jacques Roux said...

"Can I talk to a new one?" Brilliant, and priceless. But as a minor, she needs representation. Tell her to call me.

My Mother would often lie to me by stating that there was no more coke in the house, then disappear into the bathroom for hours on end, hoovering up what I'm sure were turbo rails. But she always was stingy with the drugs.

mrs. awesome said...

we were at the cheesecake factory eating a late dinner the other night, and as usual, we were stuffed. i somehow never make it to the cheesecake because the food portions are so huge. then the table next to us gets cheescake, and g. goes nuts asking when our cheesecake will arrive. we told her they were out of cheescake, and those people got the last pieces. she just said "okay". love that she's still a 3 year old.

~A~ said...

*LMAO* Oh totally, all the time. My favorite before the older kids got a concept of time was when they asked when we would do something, "Maaaawm, when are we going to the zoo?" "Maaaawm, when are we going to the library?" "Maaaawm when are we going to see UngWog?" My answer would always be "Oh, on Tuesday."

Tuesday was good enough for them.

But I ruined that by educating them. Damn it.

thelyamhound said...

She said: I HATE YOU!!!!
I said: Well--then I guess we'd better go find you a new mommy. Let's get in the car. (She's sure to be in therapy for that one.)


If so, we're all fucked. I can't even count how many times my mother used that one. If anything, I probably started to wonder at some point whether I was ever gonna get this trade-in. It occurred to me not a few times that she must not be looking very hard for a replacement.

Now, of course, I'm glad I had the mother I had (unless I'm having one of my routine existential crises, in which case I curse her for birthing me into such a world, sort of like the narrator of William Blake's "Infant Sorrow").

thelyamhound said...

Make that "have the mother I have", as she's still, thankfully, alive and being motherly. I think the "had" came from the seemingly vast distance between my childhood and . . . well, now.

Stine said...

Oh man,..."Can I talk to a new one?"

Priceless I tell ya, priceless.