I Cannot Tell A Lie

Dad here:

Well, the first lengthy, wordy post I wrote had to do with the first time Clementine told a joke, and the joy it brought me. Today I tell of a not-so-happy first. Her first premeditated lie.

It was a small one, and one that after the initial shock wore off, seemed like nothing more than her pretending, but certainly could have been her way of stealing the spotlight back from her sister. She was playing outside on the deck, and P.J. had accidentally knocked over her toy chair and whined about it a little, and I had encouraged P.J. to just pick it up on her own. Clementine very carefully took her own chair and gently toppled it on the ground, and said without much conviction "I hurt myself."

I would be much more concerned if I thought that she thought that this ruse might work, but it was a little dispiriting nonetheless. Could we have taught her to lie at this young age. She already tells us fanciful tales of things that never happened, and we chalk it up to imagination. In the moment, I decided that she just wanted a little attention, and we had a wonderful chat about what exciting things she had done that day, and there was no similar incident the rest of the night.

I hope that this is some early indication of things to come, I thought I would get at least a decade before she thought that lying to us would get her anywhere, and I hope I keep my wits about me long enough that she can't so easily get over on me even then.