Lies I Tell My Children
There are a few things no one tells you about becoming a parent:
- You will be puked, peed, pooped, and bled on – a lot.
- You will never sleep a full night again.
- You will worry every day.
- You will become the biggest liar ever.
It starts small. “The shots won’t hurt, baby, I promise.” You say it to a newborn who doesn’t understand, doesn’t care, and after one prick of a needle, wouldn’t believe you anyway.
That’s the gateway lie. The next are bigger. “Santa Claus is real. The Tooth Fairy pays you for your baby teeth. The Easter Bunny leaves plastic eggs with candy inside.”
By the time they’re older, you’ve moved on to the real lies.
That’s coffee-flavored ice cream, not chocolate. You won’t like it.
I don’t know what happened to the last of the chocolate chip cookies.
The bran-wheat-sugar-free cereal is all we have.
When did most of my lies becomes about food??
Saying “penis” over and over again isn’t funny. (Yes it is. It totally is. That and wiener.)
Keep making that face and it’ll get stuck like that. (When did I become my mom??)
I always know what you’re up to. You can’t lie to me. (Keep believing that one, boys.)
Mom has eyes in the back of her head.
It’s bedtime. (This one only works on Sean.)
Ya know, I tell myself I’m a brutally honest person. I may have to re-think that one. I’m so glad that my pants can’t really catch fire.