Pretty Little Liars
Published October 3, 2011 | Four-year-old children are a work in progress: there’s the wanton nose picking; lack of anything resembling a brain-to-mouth filter (“WHY IS THAT MAN SO FAT, MOMMY? IS HE PREGNANT?”); and midnight trips to the parental bed, along with the kicks to the crotch that go with that, are the norm. But the most off-putting trait of four-year-olds is their proficiency and proclivity for lying.
At the hippie nursery school, a new boy accidentally knocked my daughter over on the first day. Her teacher witnessed the entire thing and not a tear was shed by my daughter (which is a credit to her older brother’s roughhousing ways). Since then we have had the following conversation every day after school (Every. Day.):
Me: How was your day, sweetie?
Her: Charlie punched me in the face.
Me: Oh dear.
Her: Yes, he punched me like this [punches herself in the face] and no teacher was looking out for me and he never learned his lesson about punching kids in the face.
Me: Are you sure he punched you?
Her: Yes. Of course. I promise he did.
This is often followed by exchanges like this one:
Her: Guess what, mommy? The dentist told me I should have jelly beans and chocolate milk all the time.
Me: Really? Why don’t I call her to make sure? [Pick up phone]
Her: NO! She doesn’t want you to call her because she’s eating lunch right now.
Me [Speaking into phone]: Hello, dentist? Did you really tell my daughter to have jelly beans and chocolate milk? No? Okay, thank you.
Her: You called the wrong dentist.
Or this one:
Me (to her brother): Don’t forget your cello because today is your lesson at school.
Her: I have my cello lesson, too.
Me: Really?
Her: Yes. And gymnastics and soccer and karate.
Me: You don’t say…I can’t recall you in any lessons at the moment.
Her: Daddy takes me. I will also be dancing Swan Lake.
She isn’t simply exaggerating the truth for the sake of a good story (something I do for a living and fully endorse); she is brazenly trying to con me. When I think of boys and hormones thrown into the mix, I start to hyperventilate.
Her teacher insists that lying is a perfectly normal developmental milestone, indicating healthy creative growth. This is only mildly reassuring to me and I plan on sticking a lie detector in her stocking this Christmas, just in case.
I'll take one for each stocking, Santa.
32 Responses to Pretty Little Liars
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I’m going to add that 42 year old women are a work in progress too! I have the lack of brain-to-mouth filter
My older daughter went through this while my younger one was the little liar police! I don’t know which was more obnoxious!
My son is a narc, too!
I love it! Thank you for the morning laugh! Your daughter sounds hilarious. Chocolate milk and jelly beans? LOL Though the best is ‘I’ll be dancing in Swan Lake.’ hahahaha
My daughter just turned five. So I understand where you’re coming from. Great post!
Thanks, Trish! I suspect if our kids ever got together for a WB/RW play date, there would be trouble…
Ah yes. We have this in our house too. Child 4 is quite proficient and it’s freaking me out.
Lying is my number 1 hot button so it’s hard for ne to not go ape shit about it.
Dont ya just love little girls?
The lying drives me bonkers, too. Now I just nod non-committally to see how far she’ll go. Answer? To the ends of the Earth and back.
Ah… the memories. Unfortunately sometimes they don’t outgrow this trait. My standard response is: “This doesn’t make much sense to me.” Later I say: “How’s that working for you?”
Now they are on their own, it’s not just me filtering their form of truth, they have to live with the consequences themselves. I guess it’s a form of tough love, not an easy role to play.
I love tough love.
That “you called the wrong dentist…” line . . . you have your hands full, momma. Seriously. If they’re that quick on their feet – well, let’s just say that I don’t envy you.
I know, right? And she’s pretty cute to boot, so with some people (*cough* SERB *cough*) she gets away with it…
Love it! My favorite story in this arena is a friends son — spilled milk on floor.
Mom–Isaac, did you spill the milk?
Isaac– No, it was the elephant.
Mom –I didn’t hear an elephant come in the kitchen.
Isaac — He was sneaky.
The “sneaky elephant” is a permanent part of our lexicon. : )
Isaac and my kid could take over the world one day
“You called the wrong dentist” – LMAO! Really? I’m trying not to laugh, I am. But, oh my.
Just call it a “creative pretend” stage instead of lying – goes down much easier, don’t you think?
The funny thing is, once she gets through it, she’ll probably be the one who calls everyone else out of their lies!
True enough – I don’t envy my grand-kids because their mama will be wise to their lies!
I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight because of worrying about Charlie, the non-lesson learner. (I’m punching myself in the face for effect.)
I surely hope that someday, SOMEONE pays attention so Charlie can be taught that it’s not okay to punch people.
Except for dentists.
Charlie should maybe go ahead and punch them.
(Oh dear.)
Your comments are always 10x funnier than my posts!!!
OMG! Your daughter is HYSTERICAL! I’m totally LOLing over here! My kids are little liars too. Scary how they can look me straight in the eye and just spout bullshit. But you, Lady, are in BIG trouble…she’s a SMART one! My boys are a little less savvy. My youngest (8) is more apt to walk into the room and announce, “I DID NOT USE THE ENTIRE ROLL OF SCOTCH TAPE TO WRAP UP THE DOG. SHE DID IT TO HERSELF” or “SOMEHOW THE TOILET IS ALL CLOGGED UP BUT I DID NOT TRY TO FLUSH A BIONICLE”. I don’t worry though…I’m SURE they will get MUCH better at lying over time.
My 8yo son is a useless liar, too. (i.e. “Mommy, it wasn’t me. Okay, fine, it was.”)
My four year old does well. Having four nine year old boys in a car all making fart jokes for an hour, that causes me angst.
Oh I feel your fart-joke pain, sister…
you called the wrong dentist…best line ever!
I love your daughter. She is going places. Big, awesome, spectacular places. People who lie to your face and then, when you bust them, LIE SOME MORE? Genius. Sheer genius. [You called the wrong dentist is now my go to whenever anyone busts me for anything]
I can only pray that she uses her powers for good…otherwise, I am screwed.
It’s a good thing your daughter and my son live very far apart. They could be the next Bonnie & Clyde (I’m assuming they were really good liars). After school today I asked my son how his day was (his usual answer is : “Noffing”) but today he told me none of his teachers were showed up to school. I asked why Tiffany (one of said teachers) was there when I picked him up and he said she just came for pick up. The he proceeded to tell me how today, without grownups, they all went to the zoo and the moon and how he drove the bus. I’ve decided we’re moving. I don’t want to live in a city that will let my crazy-ass 3 year old drive a bus.
HOLY CRAP THAT IS AMAZING! Obvs, we have creative geniuses (geni?) for kids. You’re right, though – when we meet for drinks, they’ll have to stay in their respective cars. (or, in your son’s case, bus)
You called the wrong dentist – this girl is GOOD.
And how does it bode for me if my 3-yr old son is also lying? Don’t answer that.
Just wait until the new chalupa arrives… “I don’t know where the baby is, mommy…maybe it wanted me to have you all to myself…” etcetera…
I love that her lies are so cute. And really clever!
Is it bad that at 9 my daughter still ‘tries’ this? However, I told them at a very young age that mom’s are born with a lie detector and if I look them straight in the eyes when they tell me the lie, I’ll know…works every time. They can’t look me square in the eyes when they’re lying.
Damn you’re good! Ugh – too late for both my kids…I’ll save it for the grand-kids
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Oh, the lying.
THE LYING.
To my face.
I have to bite my lips from laughing outloud.
Who had the last cookie?
Not me, says crumbface.
Crumbface needs to have a tutorial with my daughter