The Whole Truth and Nothing But
Remember “Not Me” from the Family Circus cartoons? We all know how alive and well this little ghost is in any home with kids:
“Who spilled milk and didn’t clean it up?!”
“Not me!”
“Not me!”
“Well, it wasn’t ME”!
No matter the offense, this trio of responses in my house rarely changes. (The only caveat is that they blame the dog, even though she is lactose-intolerant, doesn’t have opposable thumbs, etc.). And my rebuttal doesn’t change, either:
I’m not going to be angry if you tell me the truth. It’s dishonesty that upsets me.
When no one owns up to the misdemeanor at hand, of course a lie has been told. And how I wish I could get it through to my kids that they should just be honest in the first place.
And how I wish I could just be honest in the first place.
Santa, Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny aside, honesty with kids is paramount. Not just because it sets a good example but also because kids can smell a rat. They can pick up on every little clue that we are fibbing: lack of eye contact, vague answers, you name it. We parents are versed in Santa inquiries (having asked plenty ourselves!) but when something comes out of left field, well, at least I know fail the Litmus Test for Lies that kids keep with their turning mental wheels.
So a few days ago I took my kids to get our mail and they love nothing more than to discover a package waiting. Even if it is not for them, their little imaginations run wild with musings about the box’s contents. The anticipation is more than they can stand. Now this particular treasure trove of hope and desire was addressed to me; however, it shamelessly proclaimed in large block letters the name of my son’s favorite online company
Crap.
That particular delivery had slipped my mind. I thought my son’s head was going to spin around and turn technicolor he was soooo excited about that package. (Remember October 29th’s post “Kiddos, Candy and Credit Cards”? This is the company my boy targeted with hog-wild transactions.) He was certain it was for him. And it was. But for his birthday. Not, as he assumed, a “thank you” gift from this quirky company for loving the place so much. (My son wrote them a sweet fan letter which, in eight-year-old prose, utilizes the word “awesome” a lot.)
As my son was whirling around the mailroom dancing with the box, shouting out the endless possibilities of what could be inside (world’s largest gummy bear! rubber band shooter! bacon pop!), I blurted out,
“Hey, buddy, slow down. I, uh, think this package is a mistake.” (squeaky stammer on my part)
“But MOM! They’re sending me a package because they got my LETTER!!!”
“Well, honey, we just sent the letter a few days ago…there’s no way they could have sent you a thank you this fast.” (whew, recovery)
“NO! This is IT, Mom!!! I KNOW it is!!!”
(Note to self: Never attempt logic with a child when a gift is involved. I keep forgetting that.)
“Ok, just give me the box. We’ll talk about this later.” (I like to call this “The Stall.” Cool, savvy tactic? Not so much. Something else I am slow to learn.)
“When are we going to open it, Mom? Can we do it when we get home??” (See? “The Stall” doesn’t work every time.)
“Um….I dunno…..” (Nicely, done, Mom. Nicely done.)
“CAN WE OPEN IT WHEN WE GET HOOOOMMMME?”
Silence. I’m stumped for words at this point.
My son didn’t buy my “mistake” line for a second. He knows. He’s not easily duped. He does not let this box thing go and I am out of ideas. We go ’round and ’round repeating the above conversation over and over until the most obvious solution presents itself.
Tell the truth, Mom.
So I did: “Honey, that box has one of your birthday gifts inside. So it is for you. But not until your birthday.” There. I said it.
Of course he still wanted to open it right then and there even though his birthday is not for several weeks. He’s eight. And logic never dispels the aura of a gift. But my telling the truth (finally!) led to more constructive discussion about said box. Now he “just wants to help me wrap it.”
Then yesterday, my other son decided to get sassy and didn’t realize his sharp tone was within my earshot. When I asked him if I heard him correctly…he owned up to it. I was a bit surprised, honestly. A consequence ensued and when I talked with him about the situation later, I thanked him for being truthful. And that even though his honesty resulted in a punishment, I told him I respected him for taking responsibility for his actions. That it was a noble thing to be truthful and admit error, taking his lumps and becoming a better person in the end.
Now, I just need to heed my own words. And keep better track of surprise birthday deliveries.
