Ya know, I’ve had to put up with a LOT of shit as a mom — catching puke with my bare hands, getting my dress flipped up in the middle of a crowded bank, and even having to scrub a red crayon-decorated window frame just in time for Mother’s Day. Sure, my top might very well be about to blow, but nevertheless, I take it since that’s what parents do. However, the one thing that absolutely burns my butt more than anything else is when my kids try to lie to me.
Now granted, I realize that sometimes, kids are just guilty by association, so I try my best to give them the benefit of the doubt. Hell, I had my own fair share of misplaced finger pointing as a youngin’. I remember one time that I totally took the heat for something that I didn’t even do. My best friend was over at my house on our freshly stained deck in the backyard, when she spilled an entire bottle of tanning oil smack dab in the middle of the damn thing. I knew that my dad was gonna flip his freaking lid, since he had put blood, sweat and tears into refinishing that deck. And would you believe that my parents didn’t even give me a chance to explain MY side of the story?! I was immediately blamed for effing up the wood and sentenced to one week of grounding. I watched from the confines of my bedroom window as my friend happily played with the rest of the neighborhood in her false sense of freedom. It was totally and completely unfair that she lied, and I was the one who had to pay the price.
There are times, however, when kids flat out lie straight to their parents’ faces. And THIS is what makes me want to drop-kick a Webkinz or two. Take, for instance, yesterday when my nose was immediately blasted with the overwhelming smell of fingernail polish when I stepped into my daughter’s room. I must have asked her ten different times if she had painted her nails or anything else in the room, to which she innocently replied, “NO“, with a cute little bat of her big puppy dog eyes. Every fiber of my being told me that the little shit was lying right through her toothless grin. Plus, I have a wicked sense of smell so I knew that my nose, at least, was NOT deceiving me.
And wouldn’t ya know that after just a few minutes alone with Daddy, the little Pinocchio confessed her dishonesty and presented a freshly painted sock, complete with “pink” streaks and blobs??!! WTF?! Why the hell wouldn’t she tell ME, the woman who brought her into this world?! I know I may be pissy at times, but I’m certainly no Wicked Witch of the Midwest. She made him promise not to tell me the details of the story, so I’m not really sure where she was hiding the thing in her room. I was so incredibly irked that she refused to tell me the truth.
Now I realize that this is probably just one of many lies that my daughter will tell me in her lifetime, but I really want my kids to feel like they can come to me with anything, whether it be something small like fingernail polish or something big like not getting in the car with a friend who’s been drinking. Keeping the lines of communication open is such a vital part of parenting and something for which I will continue to strive. And if all else fails, well then I’ll just send Daddy in to get the low-down….