We're driving home from seeing my parents in Norfolk and we're about two thirds of the way home. Grace has been asleep since we left and she's just rousing. She's content to sit for a bit and then she starts to fidget so Matt the Husband tells her we're nearly home. An outright lie.
Later on we give her a a packet of mini cheddars to snack on to see her through until tea time. She asks for more, we tell her they're all gone. Another lie (Matt the Husband has syphoned a handful off for me to eat as I drive).
At Grandma's house later on, she's given a piece of fudge as a treat for Mothers Day. She's not a Mother but I let it go. She asks for another piece. Grandma tells her it's all gone. Yet another lie.
Why do we do it? White lies I know, but still lies. I wonder when we will start telling her to amuse herself for another hour as we have a long way to go until we get home? Or that Mummy ate the mini cheddars so there aren't any left? Or that one piece of fudge is more than enough for a little lady inbetween meals, thank you very much?
Because it's easier to lie. To gloss over the truths with a snippet of fib to make life easier. It's wrong, but it feels so right! And so natural. I am a natural born liar.
And so are you!