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Mommy gets caught in a little white lie
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Published: February 4, 2009
Everyone lies, and parents are no exception. White lies, fibs, a certain guy in a red suit — all clever phrases that hide the fact we're not telling the truth.
So what happens when your child — who incidentally is under the microscope for being dishonest — catches you lying?
It was Inauguration Day, and my son was wilted on the couch with a sore throat and fever. A visit to the pediatrician was on the horizon — at 12:15 pm to be exact — where my son's throat would be "tickled" with a four-foot-long Q-Tip to test for strep throat. On the list of possible tortures to inflict on him, this ranks higher than taking away toys. When he knows about the pending procedure, I know the switch that induces a crying, wailing, screaming-induced tantrum immediately flips on.
I also knew that the event we were seeing on television was historic. Wanting to watch and share the moment with my kids, I calmly told them we would have to leave for an appointment at noon. Their eyes and ears perked up, because the word appointment means one thing. "Who has to go to the doctor?" my daughter-turned-detective asked. The American flags waved, the dignitaries took their seats and my mind and mouth quickly collaborated: "I do," I said. Lie!
When we got in the car and traveled down the road, my son became suspicious. "This isn't the way to your doctor's office," he said. Time to practice my preaching: Come clean and you'll get in less trouble. "No, it's not, because … well, honey … you're going to the doctor," I confessed.
Switch flipped on, tears spilled, voice raised. "Why, mommy, why? Why did you lie?" The answer was irrelevant, since he's already thinking about that cotton swab. Should I tell him I lied because I chose viewing history over a hissy fit? Could he understand me wanting him to watch the ceremony rather than worry about a two second strep test? No, because there's never a good reason to lie. And history is irrelevant when we're talking about a four-foot-long Q-Tip.
I took a deep breath, and thought about my advice when he's lied: Apologize, and be sure not to lie again. So I offered my apologies, explained the lie was wrong, and promised to never lie again. Until he asks me about the Easter Bunny.
So people who tell you they've never lied are not telling the truth. Or, at the very least, they're not parents.
Kelli Robinson is a stay-at-home mother in Mooresville.
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